


The Spaces Between

by WrithingBeneathYou



Series: Choose Your Own Adventure [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, M/M, soul-mate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-03-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 32,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22136197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WrithingBeneathYou/pseuds/WrithingBeneathYou
Summary: Uchiha Madara is well aware that his aptitude with a katana and full elemental chakra control are not entirely his own. At first he thought himself blessed with a powerful soulmate to stand at his side and ally with the Uchiha in these trying times. But, then he gains a deep, working knowledge of Senju sentry positions and rotation schedules and realizes that things are perhaps a bit more complex than they first appeared.Or, the one where soul-bonds are characterized by random exchanges of knowledge and skill.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Series: Choose Your Own Adventure [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1593334
Comments: 155
Kudos: 557





	1. Madara

**Author's Note:**

> Cross-posting for those of you who subscribe and would like to participate, but aren't on Tumblr. 
> 
> This is a Choose Your Own Adventure fic where you get to vote on what happens next in the story. Polls are open for approximately 24 hours. Once the next chapter is posted, the prior chapter will be updated with a brief summary of what would have happened had the alternate choice been selected. Have fun!

The distinctive call of a bush warbler has Madara flattening himself to the ground not a heartbeat before Senju sandals flit past, the only tell being a disruption in the air. There’s another staccato burst of bird song a half-league to the north and two more shinobi dig in deep and launch towards the canopy in the shadow of their squad leader’s footsteps. 

They’ll have discovered his diversion then. Good.

Madara allows another ten minutes to pass, lying on his stomach and absently studying a swarm of ants as they shift dirt in a frantic bid to repair the damage wrought by human sandals. It’s an interesting parallelism—one that has him grinning despite the ignobility of this farce.

Five years. He’s been clan head for five long years and acting head for two more before that. Not once in all of that time has the balance of power between the Uchiha and Senju shifted in favor of one or the other. Hashirama is his equal, for all that he is blinded by a child’s dream; Izuna and the idiot’s demonic brother are of a similar skill level as well. The remaining matches between their clanmates tend to be rather inconsequential insofar as victory is concerned, though each pyre is another weight added to the burden he already carries. Five years and they’ve all been waiting for a single link in the chain to break, for one of the powerful four to fall.

This opportunity isn’t precisely the fell swoop that he had in mind, but it’s close enough to satisfy.

In the distance, a timed seal releases and a grand fireball brings brilliance to the pre-dawn gloom.

Inhaling slowly, Madara gathers himself and rises from the brush, a crimson onryō—the move measured and sure, steeped with preternatural grace. His gunbai shifts against his shoulders like an organic extension of his body and he swallows against the dryness of anticipation. At least that’s what he’s tried to convince himself it is, and not guilt making his heart race and his throat tighten. Assassination is the foundation of a shinobi’s craft. Surely it’s not a misuse of his soulmate’s unwittingly imparted knowledge to use the details of sentry routes and rotations as a means to permanently end the war.

Surely.

He’s repeated the line like a mantra, yet it never seems to stick. No matter how he tries to persuade himself, he can’t definitively say that snuffing out the flames of war is a fair trade for betraying the counterpart of his soul—a Senju if his suppositions are correct. It’s a selfish thought, but he’s not Hashirama, he can’t easily cast aside the few for the sake of the many.

Doubt beats at his ribs from within, makes his fists go slack.

For the first time in his life, he is going to fail a mission. The realization should rankle, but it doesn’t. Instead he sighs in relief and revels in the sudden release of the vice that’s been slowly ratcheting around his heart. The timed seals he set will be dispersing soon and the chakric load isn’t enough to injure, only distract. He can retreat now without the stain of an irrevocable sin on his conscience.

His soulmate’s little parcels of knowledge and innate ability—the mastery of all elemental chakric networks and political intelligence not the least of which—are gifts given unknowingly, but with unshakeable trust. 

They’ll have to find another path to peace.

Branches slap against his thighs as Madara crashes through the underbrush, absently shaking the leaf litter from his hair. The symbol of his martial prowess is nothing more than a glorified dirt trap on missions like this. Rolling his eyes, he lifts one foot to rest on the bole of a tree in preparation of his ascent as he quickly gathers his hair up into a passable plait. Izuna is going to have his hide for the state of his appearance, but this is war. Who cares? Noble bearing won’t make a shinobi any less dead.

Once the leather thong is knotted in place, he sinks down, thighs coiling and chakra gathering in roiling waves around his sandals.

~~1.) Just as Madara springs forward towards the crown of a massive mahogany tree, a kunai splits the light and embeds itself to the hilt not a hairsbreadth from where his face had been.~~ (After being challenged through the use of standard shinobi weapons instead of an attack with merit, Madara would have assumed Tobirama to be too weak-willed to engage properly. As such, this would have resulted in a pursuit wherein Madara took flight back to the Uchiha compound, using Tobirama’s skills at stealth against him (unknowingly). The fic would continue with Tobirama suspecting they were soul-mates and testing the theory in small ways, clashing over time before the build-up and reveal. 

~~2.) Before he can launch himself up into the dappled glow of the canopy, a disembodied voice broaches the quiet, seemingly from nowhere. “Leaving so soon, Uchiha?”~~ Chosen route: This one is a bit more explosive with focus on the fallout as opposed to the build-up. >:D


	2. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2

Before he can launch himself up into the dappled light of the canopy, a disembodied voice broaches the quiet, seemingly from nowhere. “Leaving so soon, Uchiha?”

Though the rolling baritone teeters on the razor’s edge of familiarity, the flatness of it betrays nothing substantial.

“I am, actually. Unless you have an objection?” he retorts, recalling the ash plume of chakra from his feet and looking around curiously. There. A small glint of light in an otherwise dense copse of trees, their curling branches more shadow than substance. 

“No objection, but the word of an Uchiha is hardly trustworthy,” the shinobi scoffs. “You’ll have to forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

And yes, Madara is a shinobi in his own right, staunch and secure in his power. He has leave to be confident in his superiority, but something about the statement rankles deep down in a way he can’t ignore. The malignment is announced with the air of common knowledge, seemingly devoid of intent.

Irritation flares up, molten chakra rising to meet it.

“I’ll show you forgiveness,” he grunts too low to carry, brow furrowing as his Sharingan flares to life. Surely his soul-mate will pardon this one indiscretion.

Steam seeps from the corner of his mouth as he exhales through his teeth and whips around towards the shadows, setting them alight under a concentrated stream of flame. With his soul-mate’s knowledge guiding his steps, a whipcord-thin skein of water coalesces around it as easy as breathing and binds the stretch of forest in chains of magma. While visually impressive, it’s the least of what Madara can do, and certainly enough to snuff out one snide, puling Senju.

Judging by the bark of laughter behind him, maybe not.

“Perhaps we have different definitions of the term,” Tobirama drawls, grinning as he leaps down nimbly from above. Armor clanks and slaps his thighs on impact, though it looks to have been donned with haste.

Strange. 

The recognition of having blindsided a sensor as renowned as Senju Tobirama with his soul-mate’s knowledge of chakra suppression, while interesting, doesn’t stay Madara’s hand. Gloves flashing in the morning light, he whips through a series of hand signs and thrusts his fists into the leaf litter. Red cracks appear as a doton jutsu rises up like punji sticks to pierce the place where Tobirama is standing.

Mercy is not an option, not with the swiftness of Tobirama’s blade nor the ingenuity of his suiton. Sentry reports may not put him on the same level in terms of raw power as Hashirama, but the Senju brat is cunning in ways even Izuna finds vexatious.

Exceedingly so.

Roaring like a gale, ice tears through the doton and shatters it into fragments before the attack ever hits home. As the shards explode, the ice turns to liquid, then steam, and propels the thousand shrapnel knives right back at Madara. He tears his gunbai free of its holster and blocks his body, deflecting the threat off into the forest around them.

However, the loss of his line of sight creates an opening.

A flash of light, then Madara’s nose is buried in the back of Tobirama’s neck, hot and tacky with sweat. He gasps in surprise and unintentionally breathes in the scent of honing oil and ink, too keyed up from battle to consider the brazen intimacy of the position—standing pressed along the line of Tobirama’s back, half curled and bracketing lithe thighs with his own. This situation has quickly devolved from ‘manageable’ to ‘exceedingly dangerous’ in the span of a heartbeat.

Layers of armor shriek in protest between them as they grind and grapple for the gunbai’s hilt. A cleverly placed foot stamps down on the chain and Tobirama uses the advantage of his position to slam his elbow back into the space between Madara’s pauldron and breastplate. The sensation is like a lightning strike. Hissing at the inescapable sensation of pins and needles, Madara’s grip falls slack and his arm goes numb up to the shoulder.

His resolve not to leave Hashirama without a brother weakens immensely.

Still, Tobirama doesn’t afford him the opportunity to act. With enviable swiftness, he catches the gunbai uchiwa before it falls, mindful of the blade along its edge. Before Madara can exhale a fireball at the back of that clever head in retaliation, Tobirama braces his shoulders against Madara’ chest and wrests the kama from him as well, slipping out of Madara’s arms with all the affected poise of a scorned lover. 

Each dance step is measured, every move precise, as if Tobirama had trained relentlessly in the art of martial uchiwa. It’s a distinctly Uchiha weapon and strange for a Senju to know the forms, though not impossible considering the reports he’s received—as well as Izuna’s incessant bitching—of how tactically-minded Senju Tobirama is. A powerhouse in his own right, strong, intelligent, and meticulous. But when Tobirama slides to a stop three meters away, digs in deep despite the dust cloud, and expertly flicks his wrist to bring the chain up to bear, realization sparks.

No.

Not him.

Madara gapes for one second too long and only narrowly avoids the blade of his own kama. Suddenly, the bloodlust boiling in his veins like pitch leaves him cold, hollow. He had almost committed an atrocity from which there’s no return—the one thing that can irrevocably destroy an Uchiha.

He had almost assassinated his soul-mate.

The Sharingan fades to black, chakra dripping from his one functioning hand in tangible dollops. Fortunately, his loss of will to fight gives Tobirama pause.

“You only use suiton, but you have control of all elemental chakra natures, don’t you?” Madara asks, voice low and raspy in a way it never is.

“Excuse me?”

“History is a passion of yours. Or, at least important. Seals, too,” he presses, viciously scrubbing his face with palm.

Finally, those narrow eyes—red like the sharingan—widen with explosive epiphany. In that moment, the feelings Madara managed to tamp down flash across Tobirama’s face in a shockingly raw display of emotion. Disbelief, denial, an immense and overwhelming guilt. Time stands still long enough for the dust they’ve kicked up to settle. Another long moment passes before Tobirama’s austerity returns, though with the way his nostrils flare and his breath comes out fast and heavy, Madara thinks he might not be as sound as he seems. 

“The sentry schedule,” Madara announces, hesitating at what he should say next. “I was curious, but I wasn’t going to take advantage of it.” A lie. One of thousands and not something he’ll lose sleep over.

“Then you’re more a fool than I thought,” Tobirama chokes out, voice tight and knuckles straining as he looks at the gunbai in his hand.

~~1.) He takes a single step back and slowly lowers the weapon to the ground, careful to telegraph his movements. It’s with a trace of difficulty that he loosens his white knuckled grip. “Forget what you’ve seen here and continue on your way, Uchiha Madara,” he orders, though there’s a decided lack of force to it.~~ (Chosen route.)

 ~~2.) Jaw twitching visibly, he takes a step back. Another. Without warning, he slings the gunbai straight at Madara, letting the kama sail after like the tail of a kite, and takes advantage of the distraction to explode into a sprint back toward the Senju compound.~~ (This route would have led to a chase sequence and a less amenable Tobirama. Hashirama would have become involved as they approached the compound and things would have grown rather messy before they were resolved - ie. Tobirama denying the bond out of spite, family members as mediators, etc.)


	3. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 3

Tobirama takes a single step back and slowly lowers the weapon to the ground, careful to telegraph his movements. It’s with a trace of difficulty that he loosens his white knuckled grip. “Forget what you’ve seen here and continue on your way, Uchiha Madara,” he snarls, though there’s a decided lack of force to it. 

As if Madara would agree to ignore the most pivotal moment of his life.

He matches Tobirama’s deliberate retreat step for step. “Oh? And tell me, _Senju Tobirama_ ,” he croons with all the grace of a predator scenting blood, “what is it that I should pretend not to have seen?” It’s a challenge, and one that his soul-mate is poorly equipped to handle if the flash of anger is anything to go by. “The way you slung around a ceremonial uchiwa like you were born to it? Is that what I should be forgetting?”

Gritting his teeth, Tobirama focuses on the crushed leaves under Madara’s sandals instead of his face and puts another long stride between them. “I have proficiency in all bladed weapons,” he hisses, tone bordering on petulance.

To think, his spies said the Senju heir was unflappable, an unfeeling demon. It would appear Tobirama just hadn’t been pushed far enough during their observations. Perhaps soul-bonds are a sensitive subject for the Senju clan. Or maybe Madara is particularly well-versed when it comes to getting under people’s skin.

“Of course,” he agrees, dragging out the word. “You were able to handle the only gunbai of its kind the same as a clan head with over twenty years of training because sometimes you play with a bunch of knives.”

“It has a blade, does it not?”

The snide quip wins a laugh from him, deep and honest. This is his first time speaking to Hashirama’s shadow, the first time ever really considering him as a man in his own right and not just a background prop. It’s intriguing how much fire there is in that supposed ice-heart. A generous well of mettle too, considering the complete lack of hesitation in challenging a foe well-known to be rivaled by only Hashirama himself. 

Good. Considering his own less-than-easy temperament, a strong constitution will be a necessity for a successful soul-bond. They’re a fitting match, Madara thinks.

Grinning, he closes the gap, smoothly stepping over his gunbai to settle his feet in the depressions Tobirama’s left. “That’s fair. It does have a blade, I suppose,” he concedes, amused by the farcical maneuvering and things left unsaid. Time to press harder, then. “But what about the other thing?”

“What ‘other thing’?” Tobirama snaps.

“We’ve never had reason to be this close to each other before today, but I imagine you didn’t always have those eyes of yours.”

The ploy succeeds in drawing the Senju’s attention up from the ground, meeting Madara’s gaze for a fleeting second before dropping down to focus on his chin. There’s an intelligence there—sharp and dangerous as a razor’s edge—and Madara can’t help but gloat, having found a weakness to take advantage of.

“Such a pretty shade of Uchiha red. Tried them out yet?”

A sudden spike in Tobirama’s chakra fills the scant meter of space between them with the pressure of a storm-front, ozone thick and smelling of soil.

Madara shakes out his affected arm in preparation, relieved to find that he can curl his thumb and a couple of fingers again. But, the attack never comes. As soon as it gathers, all of that wicked chakra gathers close and dissipates on a sigh. He’s not sure whether to be grateful or disappointed.

“Yes, my soul-mate is obviously of your clan, but unlike some, I have the decency to abstain from using things that aren’t mine,” Tobirama replies, voice falling flat with accusation.

As if Madara would ever deny a gift. He snorts and sidles up even closer, careful to keep his fingers spread wide as he settles a hand on Tobirama’s breastplate, tentatively at first.

“Funny, considering soul-mates are _meant_ to share,” he points out, daring to slide the few inches toward Tobirama’s pauldron, mapping scores in the armor with his palm. It would be so easy to bury his first in the fur mantle and _pull_. “We’re supposed to make each other stronger.”

Tobirama laughs hollowly, but refuses to back down despite the obvious thrum of tension. “We?” he asks, breath coming in faster. “No stolen abilities will be able to cover for your impaired deductive reasoning. I pity your soul-mate when you find them.”

And, yes, Madara should have expected that, but the novelty of being denied is beginning to wear thin. 

“Are you being obtuse on purpose?” he asks flatly.

“You’re imagining connections where there are none. What do you think?” Tobirama replies, though there’s a creeping note of despondency beneath the sternness—as if only now realizing what it means to be half a person. “Go home, Uchiha.”

This close, Madara can see the way long, white lashes frame the dark circles under his eyes. He recalls the comprehensive defensive planning that seemed to have come from one mind. That more than anything convinces him to stand down. He nods sharply. “This discussion isn’t over,” he warns, fingertips lingering until Tobirama steps just out of reach.

“We’re at war. There was never anything to discuss.”

The distant sound of shouting registers and Madara realizes that the sentries have been rapidly closing the distance while he was preoccupied. Clever, Senju.

~~1.) Scoffing, he stomps over to retrieve his gunbai and takes his time winding the sturdy segments of chain. He can feel Tobirama hesitate, but when he finishes sheathing the kama, his recalcitrant soul-mate is gone. It’s fine. He’ll be better equipped to hold Tobirama’s attention next time.~~

(This route would have taken some of the pressure off of Tobirama because he would have viewed Madara’s backing down as respect for an equal. There wouldn’t have been an egoistic sense of expectation and subsequent meetings wouldn’t be quite so adversarial. He’d still be concerned about safety pragmatics, but the overall feel of the scene would have had him much more in control of himself.)

~~2.) Expectant silence hangs heavy in the cloister of trees. Neither man moves despite the approaching shinobi force. Finally, Madara turns away and goes to retrieve his gunbai. “You should put balm on your lips before you attempt the Grand Fireball next time. Holding a jutsu of my caliber for too long can chap them,” he tosses over his shoulder in parting, activating a shunshin jutsu before he can be tempted to look back and see if Tobirama touches his mouth.~~

(Chosen route. Congrats! You royally pissed off Tobirama! <3 lol The narrators are often unreliable and just having met Tobirama for the first time, Madara may not have understood his physical tells as well as he thought.)

This choice was a little tricky. Rest assured, no matter what choices are made, there will be a happy ending. :D


	4. Tobirama / Madara POV split

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brief summary for the route not chosen updated at the end of the prior chapter. ^_^

Expectant silence hangs heavy in the cloister of trees. Neither man moves despite the approaching shinobi force. Finally, Madara turns away and goes to retrieve his gunbai. “You should put balm on your lips before you attempt the Grand Fireball next time. Holding a jutsu of my caliber for too long can chap them,” he tosses over his shoulder in parting, activating a shunshin jutsu before he can be tempted to look back and see if Tobirama touches his mouth. 

***

The kunai leaves Tobirama’s hand just as Madara’s backdraft whips up a colorful swirl of leaves. Too slow to cleave through the Uchiha clan head’s spine, it embeds solidly in the bole of a tree, handle just barely peeking out of the bark.

He sneers at the empty air as he forces his pulse to calm.

That overzealous, overconfident _ass_. How Hashirama can willingly tolerate the Uchiha’s company is beyond him. Bandying about bloated claims of omniscience like there aren’t a thousand other reasons for dry skin in the fading summer. Insinuating that his signature katon would be _too strong_ for Tobirama to handle, yet underplaying the danger in the same breath. As if Tobirama would deign to fall for such an infantile ploy to catch him in a lie.

When he said he refused to use skills that weren’t his, he was being honest to an extent. His arms bear the discoloration of old partial thickness burns to prove that he put the work into modifying the jutsu and making it his own.

Ridiculous.

He has no idea what Uchiha Madara’s intentions are, but he’s a pompous fool and proposed soul-mate or not—which still has yet to be proven—Tobirama resolves to make his life impossible.

Even though, by the Sage, a small part of him still wants. There was a warmth to his touch, radiating through the layers of linen and armor. Something alluring that only a skilled sensor would have felt.

Something soul deep.

Tearing off his happuri, Tobirama viciously scrubs away the gathered sweat and fists his hands in his hair, only barely managing to contain a roar of frustration.

Obdurate men and romanticized notions of fate are not something he needs to be wasting energy on. His focus should be on how the entire Senju defense structure is now compromised. Years spent on planning and positioning made impotent in a day. They need to implement emergency procedures to nullify the threat, to make it so that their lines are impregnable to Uchiha cleverness.

And the bastard had the audacity to use Tobirama’s own seals as a diversion.

Though it pains him, with his soul serving as an unintentional security breach someone else will have to step in as his Anija’s second for the foreseeable future. He fits his happuri back into place and lets his arms fall slack at his sides. As if Uchiha Madara hasn’t taken enough from him already.

“Senju Tobirama-sama, scouts have swept the Southern border,” a runner calls out from above, voice still high with the lingering vestiges of youth. “There were no signs our defenses were breached. All detonations were outside of our perimeter.”

Tobirama nods in acknowledgement, ignoring the kunoichi’s sidelong glance. He can’t blame her, he’s a mess. His hair is glued to his forehead, mantle askew, and armor shifted out of place—entirely atypical, but a fitting representation of how off center he is. 

“Go instruct teams two through five to ignore all protocols and report to their squad leaders for further instruction,” he states crisply, using his tone to instill command when his haphazard appearance falls short.

“Understood, Senju-sama.”

What that instruction is, he’ll figure out and broadcast along the way to report to Hashirama. Autonomous units won’t be simple to maintain, though he has a mental list of the shinobi he can trust to institute and maintain several teams in conjunction—a list he’ll need to somehow forget.

Curse the entire Uchiha lineage and Uchiha Madara specifically.

Inhaling sharply, Tobirama reaches for the Hiraishin marker tattooed on his Anija’s shoulder and pulls. 

***

Lichen grows thick in this part of the forest, green and verdant with the moisture of the nearby Naka to drink from. Madara notes its proliferation as he nears the river that constitutes the border between Uchiha and Senju lands, but otherwise ignores the pleasant scene it makes.

He’s too busy picturing long afternoons spent dancing with a partner who pairs grace with power, jutsu clashing until they’re both spent and sprawled half on top of each other in the grass.

An unlikely and romanticized imagining, but that’s his way.

Regardless, it’s a pleasant thing to consider as he sprints through the canopy with the taste of first discovery still on his tongue.

When the river is within sight and worst of the danger is past, he eases into a light jog and leaps down from the crown of a massive mahogany tree. Tobirama is not what he expected. Yes, he’s powerful, single-minded, and deadly—Izuna didn’t exaggerate the “White Demon’s” martial prowess—though what his brother failed to mention were the nuances. Tobirama’s self-sacrificing nature, the prioritization of clan over his own well-being. During their brief scuffle, a myriad of physical cues suggested a much softer man than he was led to believe.

Emotionless beasts don’t wear exhaustion like a mantle, and from the sheer amount of information that floods his mind at random moments, Madara knows those sleepless nights are dedicated to protecting his own. 

Uchiha Madara is a consummate judge of character and he doesn’t find his soul-mate lacking by any means. A frustrating and contrary asshole, absolutely, but a bond worth pursuing nonetheless.

A pair of shadows flit past along the branches above him.

While he would typically prioritize speed on his return journey to the clan compound, this time he allows himself to tarry, to envision possible futures instead of worrying about leaving Senju bodies to rot in the woods. Tobirama’s skill at suppressing chakra makes him nigh invisible.

Invincible.

He rolls his eyes at how sappy he’s getting over a single meeting, and not an overly friendly one at that. Whatever, no one died and Tobirama is glorious. There could have been worse outcomes.

Kicking absently at the underbrush as he walks, Madara raises his gloves towards the sunlight and allows the stretch to ease the last of the parasthesia from the arm Tobirama disabled. It was an incredibly precise blow, makes him wonder exactly how well-versed Tobirama is in hand to hand combat.

Or—the corners of his eyes crinkle with the force of his smile—maybe that skill was his. 

~~1.) Gravel crunches under his sandals as trees give way to the sloping river bank, not far from where he met with Hashirama in secret when they were children. He picks up a stone and studies the variegations fondly. This time, he’ll send a missive to meet with the younger brother. It’s poetic, he thinks.~~ (Yeaaaaaah...Tobirama wouldn’t have shown up. lol Cue Madara, Uchiha soul-mate romantic that he is, upping the ante, still not realizing that the reason Tobirama’s not falling into his arms is Madara’s own forcefulness. It would have become a battle of wills.)

 ~~2.) Ever-burning fires flicker merrily in their bracers as he casually approaches the compound. Chakra flares down the line when he passes and the vague sense of sentries just on the cusp of his sensory range disappears altogether. It’s good to be home, wrapped up in safety where he can plot how best to capture Tobirama’s affections. Perhaps another clandestine meeting with Hashirama is in order. It’ll be nostalgic if nothing else.~~ (Chosen route: Congrats! Madara is going to get a reality check from someone whose opinion he trusts in.)

##  ~~Click here to vote:~~

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the feedback!
> 
> God this is just as good as the last one, if not better! So much delicious tension already straining between. **Thank you! Keeping these CYOA fics going wouldn’t be possible without your support. <3**  
> Oh.. he definitely will have Tobi's attention. **;D Absolutely.**  
>  hi **sup**  
>  I really like your idea it's very interesting and fun. Thank you for your work and good luck **Thanks! I grew up on Choose Your Own Adventure books, so hosting these fics has been a lot of fun! I’m glad you’re enjoying it.**  
>  Arrg! Hard decisions! Thank you! **Isn’t it fun having to think through the ~~traps~~ scenarios though? Lolol**  
> Oh.. he definitely will have Tobi's attention. 1st one **Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaas. This one would have been so fun to explore – Madara would have been like one of those extravagantly displaying birds. XDDDD**  
>  actually that other comment about surprise threesome w/ gai sounds GREAT **I’ve told you before, Madagai stan, just fuck me already.**  
>  This is great so far! ** <3 <3 <3 **  
> I pick one. 2 seems a bit forced care since they were just bickering(flirting). **The other voters should have listened to you. ;D**  
>  I just wanna say that I’m really enjoying the story thus far :) **I’m so glad! Feel free to give me a heads up if anything could be done better a different way in the future.**  
>  Aka cue suspicious Tobi being all like, "What the fuck are you planning, Uchiha." **”Bold of you to assume even I know what I’m planning.”**  
>  2) Although I'm pretty sure Tobirama is going to be surprised/suspicious, like, "What are you planning, Uchiha Madara?" **YUP. Tobirama isn’t the type to take things at face value, especially not when faced with the threat Uchiha Madara represents.**  
>  Seems to be more humorous (2) **Except that Tobirama isn’t on the same soul-mate bodice-ripper page Madara is. T_T**  
>  More in character, opens possibilities of brash stunts to get Tobirama's attention (1) **The escalating stunts would have been so fun.**  
>  These are great. Thank you for doing this **Thank you for reading! I’m glad you’re having fun.**


	5. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 5

Ever-burning fires flicker in their bracers as he casually approaches the compound. Chakra flares down the line when he passes and the vague feel of sentries just on the cusp of his sensory range disappears altogether. It’s good to be home, wrapped up in safety where he can plot how best to capture Tobirama’s affections. Perhaps another clandestine meeting with Hashirama is in order. It’ll be nostalgic if nothing else.

Bolstered by today’s success, Madara walks among his clanmates with an uncharacteristic spring in his step. Shinobi whip past both coming and going, silent as wraiths compared to the barking dogs and general bustle. Non-combatants line the main-road with their blankets and pitched tents in preparation of the first night of the Obon festival, coming together to erect the tall, wooden scaffold around which the dancers will gather on the second day. It’s the first time in years that the Uchiha have honored their ancestors so extravagantly. But, having secured the backing of a small, yet industrious clan of farmers to the West, bellies are filled and spirits are high. The savory smell of okonomiyaki and other flavorful food stuffs brings with it a sense of accomplishment.

They deserve a moment of humanity amidst the darkness of a multi-generation war.

And on top of it all, his other half is found.

Madara turns sideways to avoid slamming into a washer woman as she shoulders past with her load. She hurries on, not out of fear, but blinded by the promise of colorful yukatas and gaily clad suitors. It’s good to see his people come alive like this.

Good to see them happy.

Slapping sandals approach quickly from behind and a strong arm slams into the back of his neck, pulling him off balance. It’s only by the grace of that same arm that he doesn’t fall.

“Are you okay, Niisan? No mortal wounds, no blood curses?” Izuna asks, words flying too quickly to process. He pushes up close, hands flying over Madara’s armor and brow furrowed in exaggerated concern. “Kura said she saw an actual smile on your face and I came as quickly as I could.”

Little shit.

“Thank the Sage you found me in time. The shinigami nearly had me,” Madara says dryly. His scowl wins a laugh, light and melodious like Izuna hasn’t let loose in years. This festival is truly the hallmark of a turning point in their lives, he feels. He’ll do anything to keep his brother so carefree.

“Yeah, yeah. But seriously, where have you been? Scouts have been reporting all morning about enemy forces pulling back from the border. Something big riled those Senju bastards up and the only ‘something’ not prepping for the festival is you,” Izuna points out, casually linking elbows as they navigate the crowd. 

Tossing his bangs out of his face, Madara snorts, but otherwise doesn’t deign to explain. After all, what he did was incredibly ill-advised, he knows that. Going into the heart of enemy territory alone—acting on information that would have crippled the Senju in one fell swoop had he assembled an actual infiltration team. Soul-gifted information or otherwise, Izuna wouldn’t have stomached his reluctance to act—the same hesitation that won him Tobirama’s favor.

“You’re wrong. I’ve been here the whole time.”

Izuna side-eyes the leaves in his hair and the obvious patina of dirt smeared across his armor. “Right. Anything that’ll have repercussions?” he asks, eyes narrowed and glinting with an intelligence Madara has only seen rivaled once in his life. Only a few hours ago, at that.

“You worry too much, Otouto,” he replies, leaning in to kiss Izuna’s temple. “Nothing is going to compromise the festival. If the Senju are busy reassessing their defenses for the next three days, who are we to refuse a gift from the ancestors?”

And what a gift this morning was. He’ll have to light lanterns to bring the wisdom of Senju Tobirama’s ancestors to his home as well.

“And here I’m supposed to be the clever one,” Izuna pouts, breaking up his thoughts.

Using his slight height advantage, Madara drags his brother in close and rests his cheek against Izuna’s head. His hair smells like lavender, a whimsical choice of scent for his fire-brand sibling. “I guess you’ll never make your way out of my shadow,” he laments, voice dropping toward the lower end of his register in exaggerated sorrow.

“Of course not, your ego blocks out the sun.” Izuna shoves him off all the while brushing off imaginary dirt. “Go get cleaned up. You smell like the ass end of a council meeting.”

He skillfully dodges the incoming punch and has the gall to laugh as he slips under the overhang of a vendor’s cart. “See you tonight!” In the span of a heartbeat, he waves Madara off in favor of flirting his way into a free skewer of yakitori.

Scoffing, Madara stalks away with the weight of dark eyes on his back. The facade doesn’t last long. 

As soon as he rounds the corner, he takes off through the gaps between family homes. Izuna, for all of his faults, is the one joy he can’t lose. To think that peace can be brokered, his brother protected, and his soul made whole all with one letter and a small bit of political leverage—it’s almost too much to hope for. Shoji screens and rock gardens fly past until he all but flings himself across the engawa of the main-line home he and Izuna share. The next hour flies past in a blur of deliberation and hawk feathers. In the end, the letter he drafts to Hashirama contains a time, a flat, variegated stone, and the words “a favor.” Nothing more. The message will be understood and that’s all that matters.

Now all that’s left to do is wait.

He performs his ablutions mindlessly, thinking about red eyes and how naturally Tobirama’s long fingers fit around the hilt of his gunbai. That evening, he finds that the festival is resplendent with lanterns and gathered throngs of Uchiha, all smiling and content. Families crowd together and tales of soul-bonds are told in remembrance of the ancestors who came before. A blessing of the highest order.

Madara finds himself eager to claim his own story.

Luckily, he manages to make his excuses before retiring from the festival just as the last golden hues of sunset fade. Night falls quickly in the forest and brings with it cricket song and the distant sounds of merriment. A soft summer wind lifts the hem of his yukata and he can’t help but feel at peace with air against his legs and the Naka lapping at his toes.

Hashirama’s chakra blares bright and verdant at all times, so it comes as no surprise when the imbecile vaults his way across the river and lands with an explosive clatter of stones. He wastes no time in calling out “Madara!” in a hushed yell, more air than sound, and rushing in with arms outstretched.

“Hashirama, stay on your side you idiot,” Madara hisses and tries his best to out-maneuver the monstrous Senju without using chakra, but it’s impossible. Those ridiculously long arms snag him by the yukata front and pull him in so fast he rebounds, only to be caught again and crushed tightly against Hashirama’s chest.

“But we can’t talk if I’m all the way over there.”

Which yes, fair point. But there would also be significantly less hugging.

“There won’t be any talking regardless if you won’t let me breath,” he snaps, voice muffled. Slamming his knuckles impotently against Hashirama’s thigh accomplishes nothing. The brute only holds him tighter. Sighing, he finally surrenders and gives his old friend what he’s waiting for, returning the embrace as well as he can.

“It’s good to see you, Hashirama,” he says softly, as if they don’t see each other every time their clans clash.

Though he can’t look up at Hashirama’s face, he can feel the breadth of his smile in his voice. “I missed you too, Madara.”

Hashirama pulls back slowly, anchoring his hands on Madara’s shoulders to keep him close.

Broad shouldered and handsome, there was a time when Madara wondered what it would be like to share his thoughts and skills with this man. But Hashirama, the lumbering idiot, could never compare to the jagged beauty of his actual soul-mate.

“I didn’t call on you to skip stones,” Madara blurts out. 

Cocking his head, Hashirama lets his hair fall away from his face to emphasize just how hard he rolls his eyes. “I figured. Still, this is nice,” he says, squeezing his hands in emphasis, “Talking again. So what did you want to speak to me about, old friend?” 

~~1.) “I want your brother.”~~ (The choices this time were mostly to determine the flavor of the following scenes. This option would have led to Madara being thrown off of his game initially and having to backpedal to explain what he meant. Hashirama would have been a more persuasive presence in conversations to come because of this.) 

~~2.) “I’ve found my soul-mate.”~~ (Chosen route: Madara was able to maintain his composure and come from a more serious-minded angle during their discussion. His confidence now will affect events in the future.)

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I love that the little twist last chapter has you guys thinking critically as you vote. It's so fun to see what you think! Also, if there is anything that is working particularly well, or could be done a different way, don't hesitate to let me know!**  
>  if 1) gets chosen: step 1: pick up the stone when they meet. step 2: throw the stone at tobi. step 3: knock out tobi. step 4: win **Damn, now I wish 1 had been chosen. ;D**  
>  (2) It flows better I think, also Tobirama's wound up so tight believing this has single handedly guaranteed the defeat of his kin, he'll need to be talked out of that headspace. Hashirama can do that because he's just as stubborn, wants peace, and has met Madara; nice or not he is going to the advantages and how this could get him what he wants, peace with his best friend and their brothers. **Absolutely yes to all of the above!**  
>  oooh do I want hashi to murder him. do I want tobi to murder him. hashi. tobi. hashi. tobi. this! is a very hard decision!! but either way I foresee a very surprising asskicking in madaras future. also wow madara what a sap hes known his soulmate for like five minutes and is making full on poetry. //also like I'm saying asskicking but I'm awful at foreshadowing so it is maybe not a fight I'm just very excited **All Uchiha are soul-mate saps, Madara the worst among them. XD As for a fight, who knows? I don’t have a clue what’s going to happen, I just write what you lot tell me to. ^_^**  
>  Number one seems like a taunt and would further antagonize the relationship. It would be glorious, but... I just really want to see Hashirama reacting to Madara’s request. **Oh, absolutely. Tobirama wouldn’t have shown up and Madara would be at the top of his shit list. Luckily, you guys chose the feel good avenue.**  
>  Ugh so hard to pick. **GOOD. It wouldn’t be fun if it was easy. ;D**  
>  I picked one because why i think andara is going to antagonize Tobirama more unintentionally i think involving Hashirama who is tobirama brother but more importantly his clan head who wants peace puts political pressure on Tobirama to ignore his own wants and feelings and just take the path the two clan heads want. Especially rig he after tobirama thought about how he’s a security risk now. I didn’t expect the lip comment to antagonize him so much though it’s definitely in character but I couldn’t resist picking the more out and out gay flirting one lol **Disaster gay flirting is amazing! Madara agrees. Tobirama just isn’t a squishy Uchiha romantic. As for the path to peace aspect, I can’t say. We’ll have to see where you guys’ votes takes us. :D**


	6. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 6

“I’ve found my soul-mate,” Madara announces simply. There are no magical effects, no bright, shining thread of fate, but he feels the presence of something powerful slot into place at the admission.

Obviously immune to the wonders of watching a soul-bond anchor fully, Hashirama blanches, face near white under the pale light of the moon. His smile loses its luster before he can rally his goodness into something a little more gentle and kind.

“Oh, Madara, I’m flattered, but I ca—” he begins regretfully.

“Not you, you overgrown plant!” Madara hisses, dark eyes narrowing at the implication. Sage above, the thought of having to wake up to all of that bark-brown skin holds the same level of appeal as fellating a burnt spring roll. He bares his teeth in a grimace, more beast than man as his stomach churns at the thought of anyone but Tobirama taking such liberties, and forcibly smacks the weight of Hashirama’s hands from his shoulders.

“As if I would ever…” The rest of the sentence devolves into angry and unintelligible muttering.

“You don’t have to be mean about it,” Hashirama pouts, bottom lip jutting the same as when they were young. The reminder of the little boy with the bowl-cut is enough to curtail the remainder of Madara’s diatribe, though he can still feel his cheeks flushing hotter by the second.

Bonded to Senju Hashirama. He’d sooner drown himself than live a life of trimming bonsais and frolicking through the forest picking weeds like…well, like his brother. Though, in Izuna’s defense, his poisons necessitate a vast working knowledge of botany and Fire Country’s unique plant distribution. He’s nothing like this mokuton-brained man, who gets his pleasure from vomiting flowers and proclamations of peace in the same breath.

Not even close.

“Okay, don’t misunderstand, I’m very happy for you, my friend, ecstatic,” Hashirama corrects as he absently sieves a handful of purple petals from his hair and lets the dark waterfall flow back over a shoulder, “but why would you call me here for something like this? It seems a little weird that our first time meeting in years is about, well, your love life.” He laughs, at a loss.

And, yes, Madara can see how retrieving a summons from the enemy after nearly a decade of forced silence—erstwhile friend or no—could be strange. They’re no longer estranged children though, now they’re family. The red brocade framing Madara’s yukata boasts a hastily sewn quaternary knot, one point for each of the people whose lives have been intertwined by his fated meeting this morning.

And what a meeting it was. Having known Tobirama for a handful of moments, all others pale in comparison. Their first dance is a sweet stretch of memory he will cherish as surely as the phantom sensation of heat blooming against his thighs and callused knuckles bucking his grip. Though he will always hold Hashirama in high regard, it’s only the cold, clear scent of a winter lake that he wants paired against his own hearty wood smoke and ash.

“It’s your brother.”

“Excuse me?” Hashirama asks, articulating each syllable as he peeks up from the shadow of his hooded brow.

“Your brother. Senju Tobirama,” Madara replies, gesturing in the general direction of the Senju clan for emphasis.

Around them, the soft burble of water flows on, but brings with it no further explanation. War doesn’t foster wasted words. 

“Yes. I’m well aware of my brother’s name. What about Tobirama?”

There’s an inherent danger in Hashirama’s tone, an undercurrent of kinetic possibility that pushes against the dormant chakra in Madara’s skin, taking root like strangle-vine. Nonplussed, he crosses his arms tightly enough to emphasize the bulge of muscle framed by his deep neck line.

This situation is beyond frustrating.

‘What about Tobirama?’ What thought today hasn’t been about Tobirama? He’s a whirlpool of intelligence, strength, and grace. Power given form and, while Madara may be prone to rhapsodizing, he doesn’t think it too farfetched to claim that his soul-mate is the glow of the moon made man. Perhaps that’s a bit too far, actually. Still, there’s an allure that’s preternatural and the fact of the matter is he doesn’t want to see Tobirama as any less than a guiding light.

If not each other’s faces, they’ve been intimately familiar with each other’s passions for years. 

“He’s perfect,” Madara summates, as if Hashirama was privy to all of the thoughts that led up to that conclusion. “And as his eldest living relative I want your blessing before I pursue a full bond.”

The demand earns him a perplexed stare. Hashirama’s eyes widen as he abruptly drops down to the ground, setting stones scattering with the force of his impact. “Wait. Tobi? Tobi is your soul-mate? This,” there’s an ominous sniffle, loud despite being buried in his palms, “is the greatest possible news. My best friend and my otouto.” Tears start to fall, faster and with more force than a suiton, ratcheting up into gross, honking sobs.

Madara averts his eyes even as his heart sings.

“Now we can start planning our village!” Hashirama manages to choke out between hitching breaths.

And almost instantly, the song in his chest dies.

While peace is a courting gift he will not eschew, that’s something to be addressed on Tobirama’s terms, with Tobirama’s input, and Tobirama’s sanction. The sanctity of their soul-bond won’t be sullied or cheapened by Hashirama’s single-minded drive.

Spinning to gain momentum, he lashes out and slams his thin, decorative sandal right between Hashirama’s shoulder blades. He can feel the give of flesh, nothing permanent, but enough to plant the seed for a near-black bruise in the coming days.

Leaves shudder above them in sympathy as Hashirama slams forward, bent double with only the grace of shinobi reflexes to save him from embedding his face in the gravel. Even with his ridiculous healing factor, it would have taken hours to put his nose back to rights.

“Dream be damned, you will not use my love as a political gambit, Senju Hashirama. This isn’t about you,” Madara states coldly despite the fire in his eyes.

Grunting, Hashirama pushes himself upright and turns to look up at Madara, hair a mess and stark shadows bringing a severity to his already prominent features.

~~1.) “It kind of is,” he says, expression oddly sheepish as he looks off into the pitch black stretch of forest around them.~~ (Chosen route: HashiIzu because I’m a selfish hoe and I like what I like. Also, congrats, you made Madara’s life waaaaay easier.)

~~2.) “Madara, we’ve known each other since we were kids. You know you’ll have my blessing no matter what, but see reason,” he tries, brushing dirt from the knees of his hakama as he shifts to make a more comfortable seat on the bank.~~

(Drama, drama, drama. Hashirama’s motivations would have been politically-minded during their conversation. Madara would never have realized that Tobirama was upset and his plan for wooing him further would have been uninformed and ill-advised. His failed overtures would have revealed his connection to Tobirama and Izuna would have been the primary factor in helping his brother win Tobirama’s favor (reluctantly lol).

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Madara just seems the type to blurt that out without realizing what he sounds like. Then flailing all over the place and trying to fend off Hashirama. Hashirama fighting between 1)*must protect brother* cave-man grunt and 2) what did Tobirama do now *thinks about all Tobirama's 'interesting' experiments over the years*. **The funniest part is that’s all choice one would have been in the immediate future. Just a bunch of backpedaling and flailing. Everyone is so paranoid now with the choices they make. lmao**
> 
> I'm voting 2 because that's a better conversation starter. But also, if Hashirama pressures Tobi into something he doesn't want I'll be so pissed at him. (I'm a bit tired of awful brother Hashirama fics) **Rest assured, this is not going to be a bad brother!Hashi fic. I also won't be going the hardcore angst route. Miscommunication? Sure. But a happy ending for all parties.**
> 
> If Hasirama’s protective and takes that the wrong way... Number two seems more diplomatic. Though, it does seem to bring Clan politics into it faster. **Does it now? *slow grin***
> 
> Uh...Option 1 is going to get Madara killed. Either death by an overprotective Hashirama or death by Hashirama's happy hug. And Tobirama may be forced to marry Madara and as much as arranged marriage AUs are interesting, I do not want to die of frustrated angst. **No worries, everything is going to be enthusiastically consensual in the end. No arranged anything. XD**
> 
> For the story’s flow (and Madaras continued existence) number 2 is better I think. Also, I want Madara to get a chance to woo Tobi, and he will need Hashiramas help with that. But! If u ever get in the mood to make an omake, I don’t think any of us readers will say no! ***sobs forever* This fic is already looks like it’s going to be a novella by the time it’s through.**
> 
> Hashirama is a romantic at heart. Madara knows this. Ask for help or advice or some sort of input. Or just say it's a Senju and let Hashirama stew on that. **A romantic in the broad sense, while Madara’s heart is a bit closer to home. But yeah, let big brother help. ;D**
> 
> If a lot of people pick one, I'm suing 💀 I just want them to be happy and in love aaaa. -Musical_Kai **They’ll totally be happy and in love by the end ^_^**
> 
> One is way too strong but I feel like I’m being tricked by this **Kind of…yes…definitely. lol**
> 
> -_- Are you doing something sneaky? **Me? Never.**
> 
> While the first option sounds like something Madara would say, it might also cause Hashi to go into a dark overprotective mode for his little brother and that could easily cause issues in the flow of the story. Or at least, that’s how I see it **Personally, I was really hoping for 1; it would have been such fun. Lol Madara would have explained before anything bad happened.**
> 
> Choice 2. Because no matter how Madara it would be to blurt out choice 1, it'll probably get him killed. So choice 2 is my pick. Try "I've found my soul-mate." and then when Hashirama's about to start gushing about how wonderful that is. "It's your brother." **Ah, but Hashi’s anger would be a slow-building one; he doesn’t have Madara’s temperament. Fortunately, there would have been plenty of time for Madara to realize what he said and correct himself.**
> 
> 2) Because if Madara says the first one, I'm think Hashirama might just punch him. Overprotective older brothers, huh **XD**
> 
> 2) Because otherwise Madara might just get killed, best friend and shared dreams aside. This way Madara will also have to deal with Hashirama's happy tears/happy curiousity, which would be HILARIOUS **That man is such a mess. lol**
> 
> Really don't think Hashirama would respond well to Madara just blurting out that he wants his brother, old friend or not. **Of course not. That’s what makes it FUN! XD**
> 
> Hashi reaction will be glorious! **;D**
> 
> These responses need to be combined! **I LIKE YOU**
> 
> I have this feeling the moment Madara would say the words “I want your brother”, he would be dead, instantly 😅 I mean you can also interpret it as "I want your brother dead". The other option gives Hashi a little warm-up before the truth comes out. Gives him the chance to get in real high spirits, all excited and happy, so that the reveal won’t be such a discreet blow out of thin air that needs to be neutralized. **The first option had such Madara energy, though. Lolol**


	7. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 7

“It kind of is,” he says sheepishly, looking off into the pitch black stretch of forest behind them.

The certitude, the absolute gall. It’s beyond infuriating. Soul-bonds are the fated intertwining of lives, separate from the world at large and an intimate unfurling of knowledge to better cement those ties. Nowhere on the ancient tablets does it state that Senju-fucking-Hashirama has a role to play in that process, has any right to insinuate his own desires between them.

“You,” Madara forces out through clenched teeth. Fists clenched and yukata billowing on the waves of his ire, he cuts a striking figure under the light of the moon.

As Madara’s chakra begins to whip the shallows into white froth, Hashirama remains unmoved. He never stops looking towards the forest, expression turning soft with the trappings of a strange innocence. He always was a study in contradictions—a tender heart wrapped around the hardened core of a shinobi.

His ease makes Madara hesitate, though. In that span of a single heartbeat, Hashirama takes a shallow breath—barely enough to lift his kimono—and exhales a delicate smoke ring.

They watch it wobble as it rises.

“Like I said, it kind of is,” Hashirama repeats, this time with the same note of bittersweet yearning that Madara knows all too well. 

His fire-bright aura flickers once, then dissipates in a burst of warm humidity.

Letting his head hang so his bangs slip over his face completely, Madara steps over and slams to the ground, boneless. His legs stretch out—not as long as Hashirama’s—and settle in the furrows his heels dug. What should have been an easy, pleasant evening has turned into an emotional rollercoaster. It’s exhausting.

“So you’re not just being a selfish asshole.”

Hashirama lets loose a breathy laugh.

“Only a little,” he admits. “I do still want our dream. I’m just starting to see that the path to peace is messier than we thought when we were kids. I try to see the big picture, but I keep being reminded that’s not how it works. Loudly. Usually with fists.”

Considering the maturation inherent in the acknowledgement, Madara is gracious enough to leave it well enough alone. He leans back onto his hands and lets the discomfort of the rocks against his bare palms settle him.

“Good. I’m glad your soul-mate is there to beat you regularly in my stead.”

The conversation trails off as Hashirama’s attention wanes, cocking his head and listening to something off in the trees. A quiet camaraderie comes to rest between them, cricket song counting the time. Finally, he tears his dark eyes away from whatever caught his attention past the tree line and pats Madara’s thigh.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but I wouldn’t push so hard if I didn’t have a personal stake in it. Soul-bond-wise, I mean.”

“That’s a lie,” Madara replies, snorting unattractively. “And it’s not even a good one.”

The crooked smile on Hashirama’s ridiculous face is evidence enough that it was a flimsy attempt at best.

“Yeah. Still, my soul-mate made it perfectly clear that he doesn’t want anything to do with me until after all of this is settled. Something about ‘fraternizing with the enemy’ and me losing my balls if I tried to talk to him before then,” he says, shooting Madara a rakish grin.

The smoke ring could have spawned from anyone with a fire nature, but that teasing lilt confirms it’s an Uchiha. Strange. It’s bizarre that a member of his clan would refuse the pull of fate regardless of the context. An aberration and a precedent of great concern. Madara tries to interject and ask who he needs to beat some Uchiha pride into only to be purposefully steamrolled by Hashirama’s wall of words.

“And Tobi won’t go for it until the war is over either. He’s not,” he pauses, gnawing on his bottom lip, “well, the Senju in general aren’t as big on romance as I am. And your people too, of course. Soul-mates are important, but clan will always come first. And my brother especially thinks it’s all a bunch of useless nonsense, his words, not mine.”

It’s something Madara suspected about Hashirama’s clan, though hearing it outright throws him off balance enough to distract him from figuring out the name of Hashirama’s soul-mate. How can a people choose not to honor the trappings of fate? Devoting yourself to the other half of your soul is the only way to be whole—it’s a concept so simple and fundamental to life that even Uchiha children can grasp it.

“So Tobirama won’t consider a union until there’s peace?”

Hashirama shakes his head and absently tosses a stone into the shallows. “Probably not. He tends to perseverate on things and right now that thing is, well, defeating the Uchiha.”

Understandable, considering they’re at war. Still disappointing.

A fish jumps—a bright silver flash darting through the air—and splashes back into the darkness. Unflattering opinions or otherwise, Madara doesn’t want his partnering flame to slip away with the same ease. He’ll show Tobirama the joy their life together can hold, how satisfying love can be.

Convincing the elders won’t be easy. However, with two such substantial bonds hinged on that very outcome, it may be possible.

“Fine. He’ll have it, then.”

Too caught up in planning precisely how to petition the elders, he misses the way Hashirama’s chin snaps towards him—the welling tears, the bloom of yellow irises swiftly washing down the shoreline. Suddenly, there are hands in his hair and he’s being wrestled to the ground by a man the general size and heft of an oak tree. What little air wasn’t knocked out by the impact wheezes past his lips under Hashirama’s vice-like embrace.

“Really?” Hashirama gasps wetly, close enough to his ear to elicit a shiver. “We can build our village, and keep all of our precious people, and Tobi can stop trying to find a replacement brother for me, and everything is going to be perfect.”

Madara’s thrashing eases and somehow Hashirama is able to interpret his furious grunt as the question it is.

“It’s been awful. He’s been in a panic all day about the defense perimeter. Something about leaked information and him not being able to be trusted anymore, like I would ever consider anyone else to be my second. I’ve honestly never seen him so angry with himself before.”

And almost instantly, the joy that buoyed Madara’s spirits throughout the day scatters like star dust. He blinks and swallows several times in an attempt to regain his composure, but not quickly enough to go unnoticed. Hashirama, sensing his unease, presses up and braces himself on either side of Madara’s head.

They stare at each other for a long moment before Hashirama groans in realization.

“Oh. _Ohhhhh_. Madara, you _didn’t_!”

“I was only testing the authenticity of the information!” he defends, voice creeping up into the higher end of his range.

It earns him a flat stare.

Hashirama doesn’t even have to speak. Madara knows he shouldn’t have. There’s no excuse for using the information gifted through their bond the way he did—much less betraying a man like Tobirama. It seemed like everything was fine when he left. They had danced—spectacularly, no less—Tobirama flirtatiously returned his quips and let him go without any indication of being distressed.

An ideal introduction. Or so he thought.

Knowing that Tobirama has been suffering leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He clears his throat to no avail, croaking when he says “What’s done is done. The question is how do I make amends?”

Sighing, Hashirama collapses, letting his weight keep Madara pinned to the ground as punishment.

“You don’t. Tobirama holds grudges like wouldn’t believe! Your best bet at this point would be to offer him something to exploit. Information about the Uchiha as potentially damaging as what he accidentally gave you, or maybe a personal weakness.” Wriggling to get more comfortable, he props his chin up on one hand. “Just know, my otouto isn’t one for mercy, so don’t think he’ll hold back just because you’re soul-mates.”

And while Madara’s first instinct is to immediately offer up everything to reclaim Tobirama’s favor, he gains an inkling of insight into why the Senju don’t rush headlong into these things the way the Uchiha always have. He can’t risk his people. Those same joyous souls lighting lanterns and laughing well into the night in celebration of the lives that came before are too precious. The choice is simple, then.

Tapping his friend’s arm to let him up, Madara takes a moment to breathe in the crisp night air and draw it deep into his chest.

Offering the key to his own vulnerabilities, few though they are, is a sacrifice he’s more than willing to make.

“I’ll need a sheaf of papers.”

**End of Part 1.**

(Part 2 will be Tobirama’s POV.)

~~1.) Tobirama stands tall at his brother’s side, considering the battle to come from a thousand different angles as he pointedly looks away from Madara’s approach. One glance at the clan-head’s hair—waving like an ink spill and visible even from this distance—was enough to unnerve him.~~

~~Surviving Izuna will take all of his concentration. He can’t be bogged down by having his thoughts linger on the implications of a hastily scrawled letter.~~ (Chosen route.)

~~2.) Tobirama shifts his weight and presses on the guard of his katana to ensure it’s clear in its sheath. If everything goes according to plan, today will be the day the war ends—the day this senseless violence is brought to a close by an even greater act of violence.~~

~~With his speed, it will only take a moment to intercept Uchiha Madara, and a heart-beat more to test the validity of his letter.~~ (Tobirama would have had a stronger resolve, been less receptive to the idea of Madara as his soul mate. T_T) 

##  ~~Click here to choose:~~

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, folks, I'm exhausted. I'll update with responses to the survey comments tomorrow.


	8. Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 8

Tobirama stands tall at his brother’s side, considering the battle to come from a thousand different angles as he pointedly avoids watching Madara’s approach. One glance at the clan-head—hair spilling around him like ink and visible even from this distance—is enough to unnerve him. Another look will spell disaster, a weakness he can’t afford if he’s to survive Izuna when this is all over. He’s too consummate a shinobi to be bogged down right now. Particularly not by such paltry things as the remembrance of sharp eyes and a wicked grin.

The lingering implications of a hastily scrawled letter.

Fortunately, the rasping call of a shrike rings out overhead, drawing his attention from the oncoming tide of blue and black. Holding his hand up against the glaring sun, Tobirama follows its progress as the small body bobs through thermals with a sweet warble then dives back towards its master. Each high note spells out a bird’s eye report on their advancement stratagem to the enemy. 

Uchiha Izuna is every bit as ruthless as the little monsters he summons.

Tobirama’s fingers itch for a bow.

“Doing alright there, Tobi?” his brother turns to ask, furrows casting shadow between his brows.

“Don’t call me that,” Tobirama replies automatically. The familiarity of the exchange is comforting, even if fails to slow the cold sweat beading up beneath his mantle. “And I’m fine, Anija. Do not mistake my intentions here. This is war.”

Hashirama smiles sadly, reaching over to take him by the nape of the neck where his hairline grows dark with moisture. “Are you sure about this? You know you don’t have to go through with it, Otouto. Madara wouldn’t lie to you about something so important. You can take his word for it,” he says solemnly.

And how precisely would Hashirama know that? Estranged from his childhood friend for nearly a decade and apparently one clandestine conversation four months ago was enough exposure to gain insight into the depth and breadth of Uchiha Madara’s motivations. His brother is delusional. Tobirama doesn’t begrudge Hashirama his trusting nature, but sometimes he wishes his own healthy suspicions weren’t so maligned by contrast.

Receiving a letter from an enemy—the clan-head of the Uchiha, no less—delineating the man’s every weakness in what he claims to be an attempt at creating a bridge between them… It’s preposterous. Nothing in Madara’s character has ever suggested tenderness. It doesn’t matter how caught up in romanticism the Uchiha may be, pragmatism will always win out despite Hashirama’s fervent claims to the contrary. If it nets him a victory, Madara would have no compulsion in striking Tobirama down, poetic claims of a soul-bond or otherwise. 

Still, the content of that poorly-constructed missive makes him wonder. Makes him _want_ to be proven wrong. Which is such an odd thing considering he’s only met the man once and knows next to nothing about him. Nothing but the profundity of Madara’s passions in life and the rightness of that broad body pressed tightly against his back. 

Tobirama screws his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. What cruel kami thought to bind people together in such an asinine way?

“Yes, I’m certain. Facing Uchiha Madara today will either prove him a man of his word and worthy of an accord, or I will die as a result of challenging him and your hand will be forced. Either way, peace will be had and your dream realized.”

He could have couched that better, should have added an empty platitude or two if his brother’s wince is anything to go by. His words were unfair, but not unfairly meant.

“You know that’s not—” Hashirama’s hand squeezes his neck reflexively and slips away. “It won’t come to that,” he says instead. There’s a heaviness to his broad shoulders, sloping down as if bent under the weight of a yoke.

“No, it won’t,” Tobirama agrees simply to end the conversation.

Ceramic plate armor clinks loudly as they march towards the prominence of the valley’s edge, a hundred seasoned shinobi at their back. Sunlight illuminates a wide stretch of ground, dusty and flat but for the spine of a dried up river bed. On its far bank stands the Uchiha formation with their indigo clothing overlapping like the scales of a deep-ocean fish.

Fitting that the soil looks so thirsty, Tobirama thinks.

Hashirama bumps his shoulder, clanking their pauldrons together in a premature toast. “Good luck, Otouto.”

“As if I’ll be the one to need it,” Tobirama scoffs. “Enjoy your time with the Little Beast.”

“Don’t worry. I will,” Hashirama chirps, face split by a suspiciously sly smile.

Silly, overconfident Anija.

Tobirama turns away and glances down towards the valley, unable to resist the draw of red armor. Madara is staring straight at him unflinchingly. The bastard even has the audacity to smirk.

1.) ~~Clenching his fists, Tobirama takes two loping strides towards the edge of the plinth and jettisons himself into the open air with one explosive leap. It’s second nature to pull forth his chakra and reach for the Hiraishin marker he seared into the handle of Madara’s gunbai four months prior.~~ (Chosen route: Toblerone has the element of surprise, scene shift, and a more intimate attempt on Madara’s life. lol)

 ~~2.) Before Tobirama can rally his resolve, Hashirama shoots past in a burst of leaves and lavender, letting loose an unintelligible yell more like the mad ravings of a lunatic than a war cry. Before he even clears the cliff face, a massive mokuton growth bursts forth from the valley below and rises up to meet him.~~ (Izuna’s instinctual use of mokuton to “save” Hashirama from his own brazen idiocy would have resulted in Hashirama monopolizing his attention while Madara, seeing an opportunity, would engage Tobirama. The battles would have stayed on the field, Tobirama wouldn't have had quite as strong of an upper hand, and family dynamics would have played a larger part.)

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(Comments were too long for the chapter notes box, so I'm copying them here):

Hi! Just want to say I’m loving this so far! **Thank you so much! Supportive comments like this keep the creative fires burning. <3 **

plz dont make tobi try to kill madara :( **I was so tempted, you have no idea. Lol There will be a happy ending no matter what and you guys chose the more light hearted(ish) route.**

shit. shitshitshit. oh shit. if two gets picked I think I'm gonna die. oh shit. tobira what the hell. what the hell oh my god. why!! do that yourself you are a genius!! 'was he telling me the truth, I better stab him in the heart' on to the actual chapter also yes!! hashiizu!! and also izuna refusing! against everything he has learned! probably to support his brother! I'm love!! and madara just like. the realization. the guilt. he made tobirama feel bad. and the way that hashi worded that. 'replacement brother' like yeah because his position but also if tobi isnt involved in anything hashi who has to run the clan will never see him. thank you!! **Congrats, you lived! XD Izuna is a war-minded little shit in any and all AUs, and Madara is going to kick his ass the second he finds out that it was him that went against the Uchiha teachings. Who knows if that will pop up in this fic; it’s up to the way you guys vote, but it’s so fun to imagine. Yeah, Madara is…not as all-knowing as he thinks he is. ;D**

tobirama do NOT try tO kill madara by using weaknesses he willingly gave you OH MY GKD ** >:D**

Tempting as the first option is.... Tobirama making a hasty move and potentially injuring Madara, only to find out this was more than likely a peace treaty meeting? I live for the potential. **You and me both. I desperately wanted that choice to win, but the first option will be fun, too!**

I think 1 flows better and if Tobi gets injured by Izuna well... **For future events to work better I had to rewrite to lessen Izuna’s import in the intro snippet. So now he won’t be up against Izuna, but that little shit will still definitely have his moment. ;D**

Oohhhh this one is HARD. *closed eyes and throws a dart* **Congrats, you’ve discovered Madara’s only weakness, blind luck. He staggers—clutching the dart hole in his chest—and falls to the ground, dead. The fic ends. T_T**

1) because this is more Tobirama-like, I feel **So many different flavors of Tobi to choose from. It’s like a Ben and Jerry’s freezer case, but with a lot more murder.**

I like the second one a lot but I’m too chicken to choose it because I’m worried Mads is going to straight up die because he gave Tobi a personal weakness 😂😂 This is a great story! Thanks for writing! **Oh, he was totally going to be taken out. Hooray for magical ninja healing…and you guys not choosing that option. XDDD**

Great job! Tobirama's a tough choice. Will he trust his suspicions? Stick to his plans? Or will the soul-bond letter strike true? Or sadistic mad scientist Tobi win? That said 1. **Thanks! This comment reads like a preview for the next episode of an anime and I love it. lol**

Um maybe let’s cool it with the acts of violence Tobi??? I pick 1. ***Tobirama voice* No.**

That was hard to choose, option 1 seems more like something Tobirama would do, keeping his head cool. So this is it. **Good! I wouldn’t be doing my job if the choices didn’t make you have to think critically. :D** Hashirama just said Tobirama wasn’t easy to forgive. Number one makes more sense. **Looks like the majority agrees. ;D**

Letter? What was written? What are you planning? What did Madara write that would make it come to battle? **The letter was referenced at the end of part 1. It’s a delineation of Madara’s weaknesses in an attempt to make amends for taking advantage of the information Tobirama unintentionally leaked to him through their soul bond. Part two occurs after a time skip and opens during yet another Uchiha vs Senju skirmish.**

Number two is so dramatic I feel both terrified and compelled to pick it. **Right?! The masochist in me was routing for it.**

I just don’t like to think that even ever practical Tobirama is willing to plan to kill his soulmate like that, especially not with willingly given weaknesses that were an attempt to apologize and earn his trust. (Although I do believe that canon Tobirama absolutely could kill even someone he loved if it was necessary for the greater good of Konoha (or the Senju clan prior to that) look what Hashirama did to stop his best friend and then consider that Tobirama is considered the colder and more cruel brother. I tend to think he’s more practical minded and places great emphasis on intellectual reasoning over emotions and also has a huge streak of self sacrifice and thus would be willing to break his own heart for the sake of others.) **Agreed! He’s complex with a depth of character that’s really interesting to explore. Luckily, with this being an AU, I can manipulate the context/events to guide and shape his actions towards less…traumatic endeavors. ;D**

Hey, um, I don't know who Hashirama's soulmate is for sure, but since it's an Uchiha and a he, I'm thinking it might be Izuna. God this is going to sound really rude and I'm sorry for doing this, but I figured it's best to just go ahead and get it off my chest. Sibling-in-laws are legally siblings, and as such, to be in a relationship with each other is legally considered incest. Now if I am wrong, then I am really sorry for this long comment. And if I am right and you were already aware of this, then it's no problem. I understand that people's tastes differ, and this personally just isn't my cup of tea. I mean no offense to you or your story, I just wanted to bring awareness to this fact if you were not previously aware. I'm really really really sorry if this comes out as rude or judgmental as that was not my intent. Your story is really well written and I love the premise of both the soulmate au and the choose your own adventure. In fact this comment is about the only flaw I personally can find. I really hope that this doesn't discourage you or hurt you in any way as previously stated it was not my intention. I thank you for reading this comment and I hope you have a really great day. (I'm also really sorry that this comment is so long but I felt like I needed to say all of this so you understand my intentions better than a short comment.) **Hashirama’s soul-mate is 110% Izuna! While I respect your courage in being able to come forward with your concerns, this comment isn’t necessary. Laws regarding incest vary by country and state; if you’re in the US, sibling-in-laws are not considered incestuous relationships and as such, are not illegal. You know what is illegal? Murder. This fic is full of murderers. But that doesn’t matter because they’re fictional characters living fictional lives and no actual human beings were harmed in the making of this fic. I’m super laid back and don’t take offense to much of anything—it would take an act of god to keep me from writing what I want to when I want to—so no worries that you’ve discouraged me in any way. But just a heads up, morality PSAs are a waste of *your* time. Writing is a great venue for exploring taboos in a safe environment where no actual people are hurt. Imagined moral turpitude isn’t going to change that, not that any of this applies to this fic in the first place. That being said, HashiTobi is my jam and I’ve written several hardcore rated E fics of bros being dudes. While naked. Together. Soooooo…even if in-law fuckery was a real thing ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯. You seem nice; don't let purity culture pressure you into judging or speaking out against others. Moderate your own experiences, press the back button, and stay kind to the real human beings behind the product.**


	9. Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 9

Clenching his fists, Tobirama takes two loping strides towards the edge of the plinth and jettisons himself out into open air. It’s second nature to pull forth his chakra and reach for the Hiraishin marker he seared into the handle of Madara’s gunbai four months prior. He can feel its pulse like a distant heart, beating in time with his chakra network.

Between breaths, he’s across the valley, not a meter before his target and still rocketing through the air with the momentum of his jump. Time seems to still. He observes the instinctual recoil as Madara’s knees soften and his arms rise to block the incoming strike. The shock is evident—slack lips and eyebrows disappearing into his mass of hair—but the clan head isn’t impeded by it in any way. Madara lowers his center of gravity and prepares to take the full force of Tobirama’s weight. Powerful. Dangerous. Idiocy of the soul-bond aside, Tobirama thinks that if he survives this skirmish, there might be something there worth dissecting. 

Regardless, there’s no time to think on it now. With a subtle burst of chakra, he alters his trajectory a handspan and pulls his knees up to his chest. Time speeds back up and he lashes out, soles of his sandals slamming into Izuna’s armor with a percussive, gong-like toll. The give of the metal and the ragged expulsion of air as he drives the Little Beast to the ground are satisfying in a way few things are. Dust flies up in a thick cloud around them, rendering the sharingan impotent.

“Try not to die too quickly,” he mocks, riding Izuna’s chest to a standstill before spinning in place and surging back towards the bonfire of Madara’s chakra. In a flash, he’s there, executing an elegant handspring and plowing into the Uchiha’s immovable bulk. With the blinding size of the chakra field and no line of sight to accommodate, Tobirama misjudges the angle of his approach slightly, taking the slap of the impact harder than he expected. He hisses as his legs slam down on Madara’s pauldrons, half-seated on an armored chest with his fists anchored in voluminous hair.

Aside from a surprised grunt, Madara barely bows under the attack.

Soul-mate or not, he’s a product of war—wrath in his blood and stronger taijutsu than Tobirama could ever hope to match. He snatches Tobirama by the wrists before he can drop his weight in counterbalance and snap Madara’s neck between his thighs. With the threat curtailed, it puts them in a rather awkward position—Tobirama’s thighs bracketing Madara’s face with his calves locked and wrists trapped. Still, it’s an adequate opening. Not a total loss.

A strategically placed Hiraishin marker near the Naka flits across his vision like an afterimage and all it takes is a skin-to-skin taste of Madara’s chakra to bring him along. They vanish from the battlefield altogether. In the split second it takes for the rend in space-time to close behind him, Tobirama hears his brother’s distinctly cheerful announcement that ‘yes, he’s so excited to spend time with Madara’s little brother’ over the whoosh of a grand fireball.

His Anija is an embarrassment.

And the most powerful among them.

Tobirama doesn’t have long to think on it as they appear in midair and go crashing into the shallows of the river with a mighty splash.

“What the fuck, Senju?” Madara roars. “If you wanted a private conversation, you could have asked!” He tears himself free from Tobirama’s grip and rears back, sharingan blazing as he moves to straddle slim hips.

Water splashes violently in the struggle. The current breaks around them.

And yes, Tobirama accounted for every extraneous variable that he foreseeably could, but it would appear he had forgotten the most important of them: Madara’s temper. Uchiha Izuna is a tactician like himself and prone to level-headedness no matter what furious playacting he puts on. His brother, however…Uchiha Madara’s anger is sudden and unparalleled. It arrests Tobirama with its force and for a brief second, he thinks this might be the end. He may not have the opportunity to test the authenticity of Madara’s letter after all. 

But then the magnesium-bright radiance of that chakric field dies down and Tobirama can breathe again, even as the aftertaste burns like the sun on his tongue.

“We’re at war,” he snaps, struggling under Madara’s weight. “What would you have suggested? Sending a missive along with _your_ brother?”

Not all men are as forgiving, nor as trustworthy as his Anija—Izuna least of all. They both know it. What Madara doesn’t know is that Tobirama could have appeared in the Uchiha compound at any time he chose under the power of the Flying Raijin.

A punch lands in the water right next to his face.

“Do your people not know what a Sage-damned hawk is?” Madara shoots back.

He brutishly hooks his fingers under Tobirama’s breast plate and wrenches him up to close the few centimeters left between them. Water pours from the curtain of his hair, banking the metallic scent that clings to him. Taken aback, Tobirama stops trying to grapple for a more advantageous position and narrows his eyes as he stills. They share breath--panting from the struggle—all the while Tobirama refuses to look up, instead staring intently at Madara’s chin.

“Hawks can be intercepted,” he points out coldly.

“Don’t play coy. I’m intimately aware of how intelligent you are, Senju. You could have found a way.”

Yes, he could have. However, simple conversation would never have been able to reveal the depth of Madara’s commitment to honesty, nor the bond by proxy. Shinobi are well-versed in couching a lie in just enough truth to be convincing. Tobirama himself has mastered the art.

“Not one I could palate,” he says, taking advantage of Madara’s momentary confusion to latch onto that thick waist, plant his feet, and lift with his hips. Lean muscle and the gift of height on his side, he manages to throw his body sideways and bowl Madara over onto dry gravel. Their sodden clothing muffles the impact. Ceramic squeals against steel.

Then the scuffle resumes in earnest.

Tobirama attributes Madara’s delayed reaction to misplaced partiality as he uses their positions to bully in close and attempt to break his guard. Izuna is much better at this in terms of technique, but Madara has the benefit of added strength, contracting his thighs and makes it impossible to pull back or stand.

Tobirama watches as a shinigami’s grin splits that handsome face at the intimacy of the position—buttocks flush against his hips, legs locked around his waist, Madara’s thick forearms flexing in his grip. It’s easy to know where his mind has gone.

Though, if not for Madara’s leniency in the face of what he obviously thinks to be mutual flirting, Tobirama would never have found his opening.

1.) ~~Returning the smile, he gentles his grip, lets his hands slide down to Madara’s wrists. The inside of the Uchiha’s gloves are warm and damp. More importantly, they’re large enough to accommodate Tobirama’s slender fingers as he threads them through and presses their palms together.~~ (Chosen route: *laughing*)

 ~~2.) There’s a brief jolt of tension when Tobirama leans in, there and gone in an instant. He smiles to show he’s amiable to the shift in tone between them, then releases Madara’s arms in favor of mapping the contours of his breastplate down all the way to the lip. They both hold their breath in anticipation as his intrepid fingers dare to slip beneath it. Amazing how easily Madara folds given proper incentive.~~ (In this route, Madara's weakness would have been a grievous old war wound that exposed his chakra network with a seal binding it closed. Tobirama would have deactivated the seal under the guise of feeling MAds up.)

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(The comments were way too long for the note box again, so replies are below.)

Tobi.... I didn’t invest myself into this story just so you could kill your love interest... >:( **What about small deaths?**

Sneaky tobi!!! I love it!!! **I’m glad you’re enjoying the fic! He’ll be getting even sneakier. XD**

Ooooh, I like both options, but I'm gonna go with #1 because I can see Tobirama acting first. And that was such a sneaky Tobirama move, searing a hiraishin marker under the wrappings of Madara's gunbai!! I love it! Plus I don't think he'd be able to keep from dropping his own plans to go try to smother his brother with his own hair after watching him yodel off a cliff then surfing to the ground on a wave of tree tentacles like a complete embarrassment. **Yes, Tobirama is nothing if not clever! Omg, this is hands down the absolute best description of what that scene would have looked like. XD**

They switched and Tobi and Mads get to fight each other!! 😍 it’s a game of musical (brothers) chairs **Well, Madara _did_ get to sit on Tobi for a bit…lol**

honestly I'm doing one because like. the oh shit. of realizing. that at any moment tobirama could have teleported to madaras /home/, the clan heads /house/, the /middle of the entire uchiha compound/ like wow okay apparently madara did not need to reveal any secrets because goddamn tobira could have been right there. **Yeeeeees. Tobirama doesn’t play games. Back when Madara was testing the borders and obviously on an assassination mission, Tobirama planted the key for revenge if it turned out to be necessary. >:D **plus madaras flailing once he realizes the dirty fantasies he could have about tobira teleporting to his gunbai. I just like to see him flail and that's prime flailing material. **Unf, it really is.** also wow I misinterpreted that!! so much now I wanna think more!! (once like I manage to not impulse vote for whatever causes madara suffering yknow?) I thought option 1 hed fight izuna but no!! its surviving izuna after fighting mads!! that's cool and worrying pls tobi dont hurt your soulmate hes kinda dumb!! but very cute! super useful to can do paperwork I'm like 45% sure. thank you! **Lolol Never fear, Izuna is a bit too busy dealing with his own little soap opera to worry about his brother’s. As for Tobi being kind to his poor, dumb soul-mate…impossible. XD**

2! 2! I can't help but notice the mokuton might NOT be Hashirama. I gotta know!!! ;D ***Whispers* It wasn’t. That’s why it came up from the ground prematurely to catch him. ;D** **Unfortunately, number 1 was chosen, but there would have been some delicious HashiIzu shenanigans in number 2. T_T**

Yes Tobirama, waste your element of surprise Hiraishin on an opening move, I’m sure you’re not subconsciously trying to impress your soulmate or anything. **Psh. Never.**

I SINCERELY look forward to Madara's surprised Pikachu face when Tobirama suddenly appears behind him. **Or in front of him with a foot in Izuna’s face. >:D**

Both are so interesting option but I need to see madaras reaction when tobirama is suddenly right there but I’m also confused why Madara wouldn’t notice something that detailed on his weapon of choice? **Toblerone seared it onto the wood under the wrappings. ^_^**

Really really hoping for the first one. Feels like a very Tobi thing to do, and besides it'll be one hell of a shock for the Uchiha in a way. It'll be interesting to see how the IzuHashi plays up, can't say I've ever thought of it since I'm a sucker for other ships involving them, but I'm already in multishipper hell for other things. Can't get worse, lmao. Really love this CYOA idea. So glad i stumbled on it. **Hey, I’m glad you’re having a good time! Welcome to multishipper hell! Lol The HashiIzu pairing has such a fun dynamic to explore.**

Oh gosh, it looks like we get to decide which brother rushes in first... Hmm. Has to be Hashi then, though I love the idea of Tobirama more or less showing off for Madara... ugggh, decisions! (Hits option 2). ...Not like Tobirama has any issue running forward like a madman himself, the Uchiha will just have to deal with the Senju head and heir acting like lunatics this battle *nods sagely* **As clan head, I could totally picture Hashirama flinging himself into battle first – tactically to nullify the most powerful threat before Madara could deal damage, but also ‘zomg, it’s Madara!’ lol Option 2 would have been a blast.**

Two seems like it could lead to a longer fight, and I’m all one for crazier battle field shenanigans ;D.

<3 **SAME**

*chants* Hiraishin! Hiraishin! Hiraishin! **XD**

I like both, but two draws my interest more. Hashirama seems unusual in his actions compared to fandoms I've read, on the other hand izuna is usually portrayed with a very strong homicidal personality towards Tobirama in particular, so much so I can see that if Hashirama doesn't distract/attack him first he would take up Tobirama's time and attention and Tobirama wouldn't be able to verify Madara's letter....but can't it be both? Two first to show what Hashirama is doing then one to show what Tobirama's doing? **Ah, unfortunately, the two choices would have had vastly different consequences. I wish I could combine them (because I have a strong investment in HashiIzu lol) but it wouldn’t work. :( As for Hashi’s actions, he had several motivations vying for his attention in the snippet for option 2: his intent to support Tobirama’s strategy (i.e. trading opponents), his own desire to spend time with his soul-mate (even if it’s battle and Izuna is intent on rebuffing him), and his drive to bully everyone into peace. By spearheading the assault, he would have drawn attention away from Tobirama and allowed his brother the opportunity to strike with the element of surprise. He knows Madara won’t harm his soul-mate, and Hashirama believes that Tobirama won’t go so far that there’s no coming back in that moment. BUT, that’s a different story now. lol**

1) because I pretty much want to see Mads reaction to Tobes apearing sudenly in front of him *flailing intensifies* **That poor man never had a chance. lol**

Hummm I believe 1 would speed things up to the end we all want :D But 2 seems more likely to happen, given we are talking about Hashirama here hahaha **IT WOULD. Lol The set-up for this fic has grown far longer than I intended, and it’s…still going. T_T**

Really tempted to chose number one, because it really sounds awesome!!! But Hashirama yelling like a raving lunatic is just too funny to pass up. **I was routing for the Hashi route, ngl!**

oh god. This one just makes me want to outright cackle. You can just picture the Uchiha and Senju goggling at Hashi's actions, while in the background Tobi has an utterly done expression and is muttering "WTF, anija?" while Madara is like, "why are you like this....-_-||" **Hashirama is…something else. I adore that happy murder tree.**

At this point i'm just choosing the option that sounds funnier :) i still want some BAMF tobi though!!!! **Tobi can only ever be a BAMF. It’s in his blood.**

I'm going to pick number 2 because it amuses me. It strikes me as a Tobirama facepalm moment that just makes Tobi question why Hashirama is the way he is with the added bonus of distracting Tobi from his nerves and the fight allowing Madara to initiate the fight instead of Tobi. **^^^^^^^^^^^^^^this**


	10. Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 10

Returning the smile, he gentles his grip, lets his hands slide down to Madara’s wrists. The inside of the Uchiha’s gloves are warm and damp. More importantly, they’re large enough to accommodate Tobirama’s slender fingers as he threads them through and presses their palms together.

Madara goes oddly quiet.

With the sun bearing down and illuminating the burgeoning softness of his expression, Tobirama can’t help but notice what a handsome man the Uchiha is beneath the bravado and ridiculous amount of hair. The realization almost gives him pause, but it’s too late for his plan to be curtailed by an attractive face. As with all questions left unanswered, he is committed to revealing the shape of Madara’s lie—to taking hold and clawing in deep until his target screams with the truth.

“Tobirama,” Madara says quietly. Reverently. As if only to test the weight of the syllables against his lips.

Furious at his own wavering conviction, Tobirama bares his teeth and grips Madara’s surprisingly smooth hands so tight his forearms burn. Pressure builds in his feet and travels up his legs with the ominous pull of a tsunami, leaving his chest empty and aching moments before a wave of chakra crashes through his network and slams through his palms where they touch. There’s a searing agony behind his eyes—there and gone—and suddenly Madara is arching beneath him, mouth gaping wide in a silent scream.

For the amount of parchment he used, Madara’s letter was surprisingly brief. No introduction was necessary between them and the rest was laid out as a list of concise, factual statements in the vein of a mission report. His purported weaknesses were few, but broad, ranging from a predilection for shellfish dishes to _this_.

A vulnerability so dangerous Tobirama recoiled at the imagining.

Madara lashes out, kicking aimlessly at the ground and pushing up mounds of gravel as his thighs flex around Tobirama’s hips. Finally, his voice catches and the single most piercing scream Tobirama has ever heard rings out, resonant and soul-rending.

Something odd in him shifts. Panic building, Tobirama can’t strangle the flow of chakra fast enough.

Watching Madara’s face contort, riding the spasmodic writhing of that powerful body—he has an overwhelming urge to let out a scream of his own. This is his _soul-mate_ he’s wounded so grievously. Purposefully. And all to reveal the lie he was so sure was there.

As per the letter, the only true weakness Madara lives with is a result of their bond—the exchange of knowledge and skill inherent in Tobirama’s passions leading to a proficiency Madara’s chakric network wasn’t evolved enough to handle. Not that the Uchiha gave any impression of blaming him, but raiton must always be grounded as it’s developed. When it first tore through him, the new chakra pathways exploded from his hands and left behind raw, exposed nodes, sensitive to contact with any outside jutsu or energy. His ever-present gloves are sealed to counteract the curse of Tobirama’s soul-bond.

And here the suspicion that Butsuma drilled into Tobirama’s bones in an attempt to keep his children alive has brought pain to the other half of his soul. Distrust is a vicious, overbearing thing.

Now it’s likely cost him everything.

Gritting his teeth, Tobirama wrenches back the tide that batters against his control and abruptly cuts the connection. Madara goes limp.

“Shit,” Tobirama hisses, eyes wide and heart racing. This isn’t what he wanted. The Uchiha was supposed to be deceitful, cunning, and ruthless—not honest to the point of allowing himself to be crippled. Though, as soul-mates, he likely never imagined there was a reason not to be completely open. The Uchiha and their romanticism…Sage above, he likely couldn’t even conceive of a scenario where Tobirama would stoop to this level.

Reclaiming his hands and shaking what looks like blood from them, Tobirama smooths back Madara’s hair and cradles his face. Lashes flutter before piercing black eyes lock on so intently Tobirama can’t look away. Odd how it took nearly killing the Uchiha to finally be able to meet his gaze without flinching.

“That,” Madara begins in a deep, rasping baritone, “really fucking hurt.”

A monumental understatement. Tobirama can still feel the tremor of residual aftershocks running a circuit through Madara’s body. Muscles quiver before falling still in all the places they touch.

“You absolute imbecile,” he whispers in disbelief. “You ridiculous, utter disaster of a man! Who offers up their vulnerabilities to a stranger _in a letter_.” And now he’s yelling. “How was I to know you were telling the truth? How was I to know this wasn’t a ploy to destroy my clan from within?”

Madara hisses through his teeth as he tries to push up, only to be rebuffed by a firm, but gentle hand on his chest. “You’re my fucking soul-mate. I would never—Idiocy must be a family trait,” he mutters, allowing himself to be pressed back down.

The wince as he forcibly relaxes has Tobirama clenching a fist in his clothing hard enough to wring out water. “Shut up,” he snaps, followed by a terse “give me your hands.”

It’s impossibly telling that Madara does so without hesitation, holding them up for Tobirama to inspect.

Peeling off the gloves exposes water-logged skin as pale as a fish belly. Angry red welts shoot away from his palms and loop up his forearms in a prototypical fractal pattern. It’s a hallmark of lightning damage and even without delving deeper, Tobirama knows the muscle and chakra lines below are charred beyond usability.

Judging by the slamming pulse in his wrist, Madara knows too.

“This is not permanent. I can reverse the damage I wrought,” Tobirama announces.

Grunting, Madara cocks his head and shifts his hips, bringing attention to the intimacy of their position once more. “Are you saying that for my benefit or yours?”

Vexatious, overly-observant Uchiha. Yes, Tobirama regrets the pain he inadvertently caused, but it’s not something that needs revisiting.

“I’m simply speaking my thoughts aloud with the added benefit that when I do, you stay blessedly silent.”

The laugh he receives is deep and heartfelt, a guffaw that shakes them both and loosens stones to tumble down the bank. They plunk into the water without ever having the chance to be skipped.

“Sage, we were made for each other,” he chokes out once he’s sobered enough to catch his breath.

They were. Are. It’s an indisputable fact now and one Tobirama can no longer deny. The bond tugs at his chest where his soul is anchored in flesh and bone, invisible, but present. To say he’s disappointed would be the only lie unearthed today. Madara is…not what he expected and far more enticing than he had thought to prepare for. Not that he would ever say as much—that man’s ego is already bloated to the point of absurdity. 

Still, maybe a small surrender wouldn’t be remiss after the terrible crime Tobirama committed here.

“Perhaps,” he murmurs, leaning down to press his forehead to the heel of Madara’s palms, just above his mangled skin. As good as an admission, Tobirama takes heart in the sharp inhale and Madara’s soft “oh.” 

He sits back up and runs his thumbs around the accumulating tackiness, careful not to press against the wound itself. Healing an injury this extensive will eat away a significant portion of his chakra reserves. A fitting punishment, he thinks. Sure to telegraph the hand signs slowly, Tobirama calls on his skill with Iryo ninjutsu as easy as breathing and feeds the warm flush of power into their clasped hands. Green light illuminates his face and this time when Madara tries to sit up, he lets him. Tobirama ends up in a splay legged seiza, surprised to note that he’s not at all bothered by having an Uchiha so close—seated between his knees, muscular thighs still casually draped on either side of his lap. There’s an inexplicable comfort in being tangled together. 

Amazing how hastily a heart can reconsider. Though, guilt is a powerful catalyst in many contexts.

Tobirama knows the instant the worst of the flesh wounds knit back together deep in Madara’s arms by the relieved groan. The pain must have been horrific. Luckily, before his thoughts can devolve further, Madara scoots forward to take up the last of the space between them.

He watches Tobirama work and jerks his head to flip his wet bangs over to one side. “Before we go back, I want something from you,” he says slowly.

Frowning, Tobirama keeps his chin tucked. “And that would be?”

~~1.) “An apology.”~~ (This would have resulted in a round of light, good natured teasing with Tobirama as the instigator of the kiss to “shut him up.” Furthermore, the smut scenes to come would have had Tobirama as the one to initiate and the overall tone would have been more physical/roughhousing, not as heavy of an emphasis on the romance, though it would have still been there.)

 ~~2.) “A promise.”~~ (Chosen route. The kiss is a joint venture and their romantic connection grew deeper as a result. Two men coming together as equals. Smut scene set-up tbd, but it will be sweet.)

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I almost feel bad for what I’ve done to you poor, sweet, summer children. Almost. >:D**
> 
> tobirama is about to either get some or crush madaras heart and i accept either of these options (also ur a god and im mclovin it) **I’m Mclovin you and your continued support! <3 And yeah, Tobi’s only thoughts are about getting some of that sweet, sweet ‘Madara ain’t shit’ sauce for his nuggets. **
> 
> the first choice was so soft,,,,, so gentle,,,,, my madatobi heart just had to pick that one **…….Well...this is awkward.**
> 
> hey wait is tobira really flirting or fake flirting?? really?? fakely?? like. like narrative wise tobi keeps noting that madara is going easy thinking its intamacy and flirting. and as a person who loves tobirama I have no faith in him being an actual romantic right now. I mean I desperately want him to be flirting but I have no faith in it. ...2. 2 might maybe be real and even if it isn't its getting tobira in madaras armor which is close enough. probably for stabbing purposes but at least he's trying to undress madara. thank you!! **As a fellow person who loves Tobirama, you’re right…the man doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body at this point, much less a yearning for Madara’s romantic bone.**
> 
> Ohhh I love Madara giving in to Tobirama’s dastardly seductions!!!! **Dastardly is right!**
> 
> I haven't been voting recently, but I wanted to vote, and I'm so indecisive aaaa. Do we want dirty shift or soft shift? Aaaaaa someone commented about 1 being ooc, but idk I want soft stuff uwu ***cradles you gently* Not voting and when you do, I’m a no-good, tricksey hobbitses. T_T**
> 
> *squints* Why do I think both of these are going to involve far less hanky-panky than Madara thinks they will? (Tobirama is totally going to hiraishin out of there and leave Madara all hot and bothered beside the river, isn't he?) I guess I'll go with 2? Because, well, look, wet leather gloves are icky sensory hell, okay? And I know the snippet says damp, but I have been dumped in a lake before wearing leather gloves. They were both just wrestling and one upping each other in a river, those gloves are sopping and icky unless Sealing Magic Bullshit is involved. And as nice as the visual is, all I can think of is the feel of wet leather and it ruins the moment for me. **Why? Because you’ve got some pretty sweet reading comprehension and picked up all of the hints I was putting out there! As for gloves, I dunno, man, maybe they don’t have a liner? Being a fellow glove-wetter, I can honestly say that the sensation never really even registered. XD We’ll go with Sealing Magic Bullshit and innate shinobi immunity to SPD. At the very least, I promise not to use the word “moist.”**
> 
> Tobi...No! Bad! No attacking the soul mate! Seriously though I predict sneaky things from both routes. Hmm, I trust your sneaky ninja style. I'll roll 2. **Buuuuuut mooooooooooooom!**
> 
> I can't wait to see how Tobirama uses some lovely, romantic hand-holding to absolutely fuck with Madara. **That poor man. All he wants is the D, is that too much to ask for?**
> 
> Form seals with Madara’s hands and relish his shocked face? Pin him and knee him in the crotch as an awfully stunted response to his flirting? Get a hand under his armor and stab (gosh please only tickle no killing!) him? Tobi, all you had to do was smile; I’m pretty sure that rare sight would send him into shock. So difficult to choose. I WANT TO KNOW HOW THEY BOTH GO!! 😫 Such a choice! **I mean, you weren’t far off. lololol**
> 
> I picked one because I know Madara is a disaster gay but I can’t see him let someone remove his armor while his clansmen are out fighting for their lives and might need him to try to return to field. **Oh, absolutely, but this is his soul-mate!!! Cue Tobirama turning his head towards the screen like in The Office.**
> 
> I vote 1 - not sure if it is an actual moment of emotional intimacy or if Tobirama is just being a sneaky sneak but I’m into it. Palm to palm is holy palmer’s kiss??? **SNEAKY SNEAK is right. *snort* Madara would absolutely try to romanticize Tobirama’s actions like that...**
> 
> It gets harder and harder to choose. But I like 2 more! Tobirama will definitely melt him :D I hope... ***squishes your cheeks* Madara will melt, alright. Lightning tends to do that.**
> 
> Nice! Not what I thought was happening but it’s a good tactic. ...so do we get to see what’s happening over at the HashiIzu side while this happens? :D **While Tobirama destroys that Uchiha ass in the least sexy way possible? Unfortunately, no. T_T With the vote having been for Tobirama/Madara POVs, I don’t have a way to flash over. But I really, REALLY want to. Lol Maybe the next CYOA fic will be HashiIzu and we can drink our fill of those lovely boys. <3**


	11. Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 11

“A promise.”

All of a sudden, the whorls on Madara’s fingertips are worth inspecting closely. “I will not agree without knowing what this promise entails,” Tobirama says, purposefully keeping his gaze down and shrouded behind white fringe. Allowing the soft green glow to fade, he continues to map the creases of Madara’s palms. The deep, unbroken life line. The unwavering love line. Though he used to decry the existence of soul-mates as superstitious drivel, their hands do bear a striking degree of similarity.

“Still don’t trust your soul-mate?” Madara grunts, smile easing into a wry grin. “You Senju are so backwards. The war won’t last much longer anyways and after that you won’t have an excuse to snub me.” Stealing his hands back, he ignores the gloves on the ground next to them in favor of sheathing his fingers in Tobirama’s hair. It’s surprisingly effective in curtailing his protest. “I’m going to go home and browbeat my elders into drafting a ceasefire. After that, I want your word that you won’t stand in my way when I present Hashirama with an accord.”

Tobirama inhales sharply. “What of your brother?” he deflects.

Because while he understands Madara’s insistence on preemptively silencing the voices of opposition—as he had been in the past—Izuna will be the sticking point. A promise will be pointless as long as he’s still a factor. The Little Beast shares Tobirama’s talent in holding grudges and apparently being the better shinobi is enough to have gained Izuna’s undying loathing over the years. As overwhelmingly powerful as Madara is, his sly, vicious little brother is the more dangerous Uchiha in many respects.

The grip in his hair tightens. “Don’t worry about Izuna. I’ll take care of my otouto,” Madara replies, tone brokering no argument.

This close, Tobirama can see the light dusting of freckles on his cheeks, the paper thin scars of what looks to have been a run in with ninja wire on his chin. His entire bearing is an interesting interplay of shinobi and bleeding heart. It’s a potent combination and one Tobirama is finding harder and harder to resist with each passing moment.

“Why?” he asks, implying far more than the conversation at hand. Then Madara speaks again and Tobirama’s reservations are cut down with brutish efficiency.

“Because the only way you’re going to let me in is if there’s a peace accord and probably your brother’s stupid village. You’re someone going to war for, or not as the case may be, and if that’s what I have to do to keep you, I will.” He shrugs. “I’m not above being selfish.”

Amazing how he can wield words with the same power as the gunbai lying submerged and abandoned in the shallows. 

It’s too much. Tobirama has no idea what he’s done to be awarded this degree of blind dedication, intricacies of fate or otherwise. He takes hold of Madara’s hips just below the armor’s metal lip and hoists him fully onto his lap. There’s no hesitation in the way Madara surges forward to meet him half-way. They crash together inartfully—all clashing plate mail and grasping hands—but somehow manage to almost get it right.

Madara’s open-mouthed kiss lands on the corner of Tobirama’s lips, and it only takes a moment of fumbling to angle them properly. Once they slot together, the awkwardness fades in favor of chasing the taste of fire and ash, Madara’s mouth warmed by the potency of his chakra affinity.

Everything about him burns.

Tobirama’s happuri is knocked askew at some point, then discarded completely, replaced by forge-hot hands. Madara moves in to stroke his temples and dig his fingers in under the curve of Tobirama’s jaw to keep him there.

As is Tobirama would be able to pull away regardless.

There’s a prevailing impetus to push harder, take faster—every desperate, devouring kiss accompanied by a roll of hips that speaks more to enthusiasm than experience. Which makes sense according to what he’s learned of Uchiha values in the past few months of study. It’s pointless but oddly endearing the way they save themselves. Small wonder they’re all so quick to anger at the slightest provocation.

Tobirama shudders as he chuckles. Lips pulled tight in a grin, he wedges his forearm between them and forcibly pushes against Madara’s chest to take a breath. They’re both panting, faces flushed.

“You have my word,” he says in a voice so deep it borders on a growl. “Now get off of me and go make use of it.”

Madara laughs. Pupils blown wide, he darts in for another peck before he can be stopped, then rockets up to his feet with the single most self-satisfied smirk Tobirama has ever seen outside of a mirror. It’s hard to miss the way he stops to adjust himself.

“You’re right. We need to get back so I can signal a retreat. Unless you want to continue this with an audien—”

Tobirama sweeps him.

The explosive impact and strangled yelp are deeply satisfying. Certainly well worth the pain of the shin-to-shin strike. If the Uchiha thinks one clumsy kiss is enough to rob him of his faculties, he’s surely mistaken. And that ego is entirely unearned.

Flicking through hand signs, Tobirama pulls the moisture from their clothing and spills it over the gravel without fanfare. He makes short work of rising to retrieve Madara’s gunbai and his own accoutrements, resettling his happuri before bending down to retrieve the sealed gloves that started this all. By the time he finishes, Madara is up and dusting off the rock dust from his armor. He holds his hands out expectantly.

Tobirama glances at them, then back up with a raised brow.

“Yes?”

“You took them off, you can put them back on,” Madara drawls, nothing but challenge in the set of his shoulders. However, the fondness of his expression is far more honest than his professed ego. 

Approaching swiftly, Tobirama takes a moment to reattach the gunbai to its holster, then snatches Madara by the wrist. He jams one glove back on with unnecessary roughness, followed by the next.

The Naka continues to burble beside them and the warmth of the sun bears down brightly, only broken by the shadow they cast on each other. 

“Don’t be so weak as to lose them again,” he snaps, closing the distance to gentle his words with a kiss.

~~1.) Before Madara’s brain catches up enough to return the sentiment, Tobirama steps back to a respectable distance but leaves one hand on his pauldron. Fortunately, Hashirama’s Hiraishin mark will bring them right back into the midst of battle and waylay any further explanation.~~ (Not quite so caught up in Tobirama, Madara would have noticed Izuna’s use of mokuton, realized he was the soul-mate that was refusing Hashirama, and ripped him a new asshole. This track would have resulted in peace talks with Madara as the main proponent, but with a less secure bond between Hashirama and Izuna.) 

~~2.) Before Madara’s brain catches up enough to return the sentiment, Tobirama links their fingers and focuses on Hashirama’s Hiraishin mark. Let reports of their bond echo back to the Uchiha elders’ ears—let peace come quickly.~~ (Chosen route: HASHIIZU FUN TIMES! The peace talks will be smooth and easy with Madara and Izuna both championing them.)

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(The comments are twice as long as the chapter lololol)

A promise to walk their future path together! This story is so sweet it’s got me all poetic!! Fantastic fic!! **Awww, thanks!**

a neat way to explain madara wearing gloves all the time when he's grown when he didn't wear gloves as a kid! but tobi must feel horrifyingly guilty cause his soulmate and he had shocked him senseless like that! all that madara had wanted was the d from tobi and this happened to him, though tobi isn't denying that their soulmates so yay for that? **Oh man, he did. But he genuinely though Madara was lying and using the bond as an excuse to get close and destroy the Senju. I mean, when they first met at the beginning, Madara wasn’t exactly on the up and up. XD**

I have to vote two. I can't really see Madara asking for an apology since he used the knowledge he gained first. Also asking for one might just kill off any soft feelings Tobi has at the moment. **You’re right, he did use the knowledge first. They’re shinobi, he understood why Tobirama reacted the way he did and would never expect an apology. Asking was just a way to get under Tobirama’s skin and tease/flirt.**

There’s no way he wants an actual apology which means he wants to rib Tobirama which means that’s the option I’m going with boys. Tobirama definitely deserves some ribbing rn **EXACTLY. THIS ONE GETS IT.**

*clears throat* tobirama is actually a dumbass here is exhibit A so i just want to make an argument called c'mon please. madara really deserves a soft and tender kiss after that. c'mon. pls. i bet he's weak to being treated gently and lovingly so he'll totally be fully defeated if tobira decides to exploit that too. give him kisses he deserves it. one pure dumbass defeated by one sneaky dumbass. and y'know. tobira being instantly defeated by his own. i guess hubris?? by his own immediate belief that even if madara is his soulmate he wouldn't tell the truth about weaknesses so tobira should hurt him to prove to... himself?? his guilt? his feeling of inadequacy that his soulmate might be an uchiha so he's disappointing his father?? i don't even know but congrats you played yourself please reward madara with kisses. also like. oh my god?? tobira?? when i was talking about pls don't kill your soulmate i didn't think that was a serious request i was gonna have a heart attack over??? thank you so much for writing this i was not expecting slowburn and now i don't even care about the smut. just please be tender with each other. like actually tender not tricky tender. i can't believe madara is still handing his hands over after that he is one pure hearted dumbass pls give kisses i feel bad for him now. he can destroy continents but he needs some kisses and cuddles pls. //and i am like. excessively bringing up kisses and cuddles over here but you really don't gotta and don't feel pressured or anything? it is my 'oh god it's slow burn please get together' emotional reaction but honestly the pain of them still not doing -anything- even though they both now -absolutely know- is pretty fantastic so like carry on and thank you again **There. HAPPY?! You got your kiss. ;D Tbh, I wasn’t expecting a slow burn either, but with some of the earlier choices, they needed a wee bit more set-up before I could smash their stupid, asshole faces together. Lol Don’t worry, from here on out, it’s nothing but smooth sailing, feels, and butt touching. ^_^**

Since when do Uchiha get offended by power? He wants the promise. The apology would be for doubting him sure but I think you've established Madara as a planner so far. **Madara understands and completely respects Tobirama’s attack, even if from an Uchiha standpoint it was a dick move. The apology choice wasn’t because he actually wanted an apology, he was just going to fuck with Toblerone a bit. ;D**

Go on, Madara. Getchur man. And get Izuna his man too by negotiating peace. **Izuna, believe it or not, is even stupider about this soulmate business than any of them. XD**

I feel like I'm walking into a trap but it's sure to be a ride either way. :) **No more traps! All smooth sailing from here on out!**

Promise is 100% more interesting to me, in spite of (or because of???) the fact I think Tobi is more likely to agree to giving an apology than to make whatever promise Mads asks for **Ah, but the promise is for something they both want. ^_^**

pls let it be something stupid that has tobirama going like "?????????? wtf???" not bc it's super romancy but maybe like "how does this jutsu work" or idk "I need to know how you get your sword to hold an edge so sharp" **lolol Sorry! That would have been funny, but we’re heading towards the hom stretch of feels now.**

I chose option ones last time and now I’m in so much painnnn T_T And terrified of choosing now lol. TOBIRAMA WHY >:c But I love the story so far and can’t wait to see what these idiots do next <3 **If it’s any consolation, Madara was in even more pain! Lmao No worries. The rest of the fic is going to be nothing but their particular brand of fluff and feels.**

tobi, i say this with the utmost affection, BUT WHAT THE FUCK?! **UCHIHA ARE TRICKY! HE HAD TO KNOW, OKAY?! XD**

I feel Tobi might be a bit disarmed at this approach, while #1 might get them fighting again. But it would also depend on what the promise is (most likely to NEVER do that again!). **lololol I think in some way, Madara enjoyed being completely laid out. Battle is his idea of foreplay.**

Oh #2, definitely. I don't really see Madara asking for an apology for Tobirama testing knowledge he shared freely. Like, Madara had to know that that might be painful for him. And it's probably clear as day Tobirama feels bad about doing it. **Totally.**

Number two goes with what Madara is trying here more. Though I won’t be surprised if Tobirama offers an apology on his own. Oh, what will happen when Izuna finds out?! Does Hashirama know what’s going on when he’s playing with Izumi?! **This was all planned! Hashirama is well aware of what’s going on in a general sense and tbh, he knows Madara can handle his own and is too smitten to ever really hurt Tobirama. They’ll be fine. Plus, he gets to spend time with his own soulmate! <3 <3 <3 Izuna, bless his heart, is going to implode. He’s not cut out for this. lol **

I love it **< 3 Glad to hear it!**

Ooh both choices sound fun but I just don't think Madara would ever ask for an apology from his SOULMATE! It's his soulmate! He can hurt him horribly (on accident because he doesn't believe him) if he wants! Madara: *Hearteyes* Tobirama: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!!! **He wasn’t going to ask seriously, just to tease. As a shinobi, Madara understands why Tobirama did what he did, no formal apology necessary.**

Um, how about both an apology and a promise? Not in any specific order, but you sorta did fry his hand's nerves and chakra coils, Tobi. Number 2, a promise sounds more compromising.(Not sure if that's the right word for it. Better. It sounds better.) Plus, asking for an apology might cause a backslide. **The healing was apology enough and Madara wouldn’t expect a true apology. Option 1 was for teasing potential. ;D Option 2 was the romance route.**

I couldn't vote last time because of tricksy tricksiness. Buuuut.....I wan't Madara to get his promise. **I am a tricksy rabbit. He’ll get his promise and you’ll get your fluff. <3**

Definitely a promise! **< 3**

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! Tobirama will want to suffocate this man in whatever way possible when this is done. I hope he'll do it to with his thighs **Unf, you and me both.**

While Tobi probably should apologize, his actions were kind of reasonable considering the whole “generations of warfare” issue between their clans. Besides, Madara needs some kind of leverage to keep momentum going so use this situation to your advantage you emotionally manipulative porcupine-head! **Oh, 100% reasonable and Madara doesn’t blame him in the least. Mads really is a manipulative bastard. They all are in their unique ways and it’s SO MUCH FUN. lol**

Hi! This is the first time I'm voting. So...I just want to say hello... <3 **Hey, welcome! Have fun and enjoy the voting!**

1 sounds like a dick move. Well, they are both assholes so it's not out of the realm of possibility, but "a promise" sounds more promising, if you know what I mean. **It was a dick move in that Madara thinks that teasing and riling Tobirama up is the surest path to getting the dick. lol**

Ugh, decisions decisions. I don't either of these will go the way I want to go. 1) I don't know if Tobi is feeling quite guilty enough to apologize, but I may be wrong; maybe he'll just apologize. 2) I don't know if Tobi would promise something without knowing what that promise consists of. Again, I may be wrong. This IS his soulmate after all. Maybe Tobi is just like, 'My soulmate is a moronic Uchiha. He's too much of an honest simpleton, seemingly, to use a promise against me./I did just basically torture him, when he was just being honest, so an apology is the least I could do.' OR he could be affronted and very offended. I DON'T KNOW! YOU'RE SNEAKY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'RE GOING TO DO! .... I'm going with 1) because then the apology is over and done with. Everything is forgiven, if not forgotten.... (I'm scared I might regret this...) **I love how I’ve scared everyone into thinking that there’s a trick to the choices. Lmao Rest assured, from here on out there’s nothing but sweetness. <3**

I just finished reading both the other story and what you have posted for this on, never been happier to follow a link! So this is my first time voting for this series and I already know that you like to have fun with the options. This is going to be so fun to read no matter what direction you take it! That said, I just feel like 1 would make Tobirama defensive, while 2 would spark our little murder child's inquisitive curiosity. He would at least want to know what it was? **< 3 <3 <3 I do like to have fun with the options, much to my voters’ chagrin. >:D And you’re absolutely right about Toblerone’s reactions.**

I have to choose 2 because while Madara is a prickly ball of cotton he's still very much a clan head and also just got literally burnt. 2 feels more true to Ninja form. Also maybe a oneshot side story of HashiIzu? Tbh after reading ( devouring) your other CYOA story I wasn't expecting how much I'd enjoy participating, this is so much fun! **God, I want to write the HashiIzu bits SO BADLY. I’m so glad you’re enjoying the fics; they’re a blast to work on and it’s fun to see the way you guys go about making choices.**

An apology would feel strangely out of tone with Madara as of yet. Like its a possible turn around, but feels against all hes done. So I gotta go with a promise - he gave him the weakenesses so there was exploit for exploit after all. But also goddamn, Tobi... you were really a mean man right there. Love to see it. **If a choice feels OOC, there’s likely an added layer to it. Lol Option 1 was going to lead to a light round of teasing. Madara doesn’t care about an apology. He doesn’t think Tobirama did anything wrong in the first place.**

i feel like this is the wrong moment to be hashing out grudges. **;D**


	12. Tobirama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be aware, this is Tobirama's POV and he's an unreliable narrator when it comes to Izuna. ;D

Before Madara’s brain catches up enough to return the sentiment, Tobirama links their fingers and focuses on Hashirama’s Hiraishin mark. Let reports of their bond echo back to the Uchiha elders’ ears—let peace come quickly.

When the chakric hook behind his navel releases, Tobirama eases away from the kiss with one last lingering suckle of Madara’s bottom lip. He’s certainly no stranger to intimacy or its constituent components, but the undeniable pull of their soul bond has the advantage of making their coming together something meaningful. Something more, indefinable, and excruciatingly difficult to stop pursuing once begun. Acknowledging the bond is going to be the death of him. Still, there’s a skirmish to be disbanded and centuries of blood feud standing between him and poeticizing a simple kiss further.

Forcing himself not to be moved by the disappointed whine and ensorcelled once more, he scouts the battlefield with a practiced eye. Hashirama has stamped out his own patch of ground a distance away from the main skirmish as he always does. Mokuton splits the ground and tangles among itself like a thing possessed. Tobirama has never seen his brother’s jutsu so inexact—as if coyly wrestling with itself—nor his smile so brilliant.

Chestnut hair fanning out around him as he spins, Hashirama dodges a katana strike that was obviously meant for his neck and flips with all the grace of a lump of wood. Tobirama tugs Madara along as he sidesteps an errant root.

“Such an embarrassment,” Madara mutters, grimacing.

It’s a sentiment Tobirama echoes, but, dutiful brother that he is, disagrees with on principle.

“Anija is powerful enough to afford his playacting,” he retorts, watching the proceedings with a sour expression even as he squeezes Madara’s hand to soften his rebuttal. “Your brother, however, is out for blood.”

And it’s true. Tobirama knows that sneer, the devastating speed and exactitude of his blows even if the force behind them isn’t quite on par with men built along broader lines. Even so, Uchiha Izuna is dangerous in his own right—shrewd, adaptive, devastating. For all Hashirama’s skill and strength, there’s still a small sliver of a chance that his ego might reveal a misstep.

Tobirama tenses, but Madara waylays his growing trepidation with a bump of their shoulders. 

“When is he not?” he sighs, not particularly concerned. “I need to start muzzling him.” Rolling his eyes, Madara activates his Sharingan with such a strong surge of chakra that Tobirama can feel it reverberate in his bones. The mokuton must have as well.

As soon as the tomoe begin to spin, a massive wall of wood rises up of its own accord and hurtles through the air towards them. Tobirama tries to reclaim his hand, to flash through seals and erect a wall of water and earth, but Madara latches on with strength he can’t match. Before the attack smashes through them, the familiar shape of the gunbai cuts off his line of sight, whipping out to expertly deflect the mokuton. It’s not even a strain.

Madara turns to him with a shit-eating grin. In that moment, Tobirama isn’t sure whether he wants to land a punch or _devour him_. Fortunately, his brother’s intervention saves him from having to make the choice.

“Tobi! Madara! Sorry about that,” Hashirama calls from several running strides away. “I was a little preoccupied.”

Apparently his foul-tempered ‘preoccupation’ takes exception to being interrupted. Baring his teeth, Izuna shunshins close and forgoes his katana in favor of ducking in for a low sweep. Hashirama—tall, handsome, brutish thing that he is—takes the hit full force and has the audacity to stay standing, not even wavering slightly. Letting loose a heartfelt groan, Izuna collapses onto his bottom, sword held loosely without intent to use it. Tobirama has never seen him look so put-upon.

“You could at least pretend it hurt, asshole,” Izuna mutters under his breath, too low to be heard, but with his lips clearly readable.

“Come on, ‘Zuna, look, our brothers are back,” Hashirama begins cheerily, voice rising along with his eyebrows as he takes them both in, “and they’re _holding hands_!” He claps in excitement, ignorant of the sudden storm brewing at his feet. “You claimed your soul-bond and didn’t kill each other. I’m so happy for you, Otouto!”

It’s not surprising that his brother is so congratulatory. What is odd is that Tobirama finds himself smiling honestly in response—feeling a warm glow of satisfaction emanating from where he and his soul-mate touch. Apparently acknowledging the bond was more powerful a shift in worldview than he had been prepared to withstand.

At his side, Madara scoffs good naturedly. “As if there was any doubt.”

Abruptly, an enraged scream breaks through the well of joy and Izuna lunges from the ground straight into a sprint, eyes locked on Tobirama.

Time slows. His approach comes in a series of still frames. Between heartbeats, a full head of black hair obscures Tobirama’s vision and all at once the world comes crashing back in. Madara shoves him back, digging in deep to repel an attack that never comes.

“Izuna!” Hashirama says sharply, smile slipping. Mokuton shoots out to restrain him, binding him tight and slipping between his fingers to keep them well spread. The remainder of the field of wood around them reabsorbs into the ground with the exception of a small patch, roughly an eighth of what had been there. After a moment of intense frowning, Hashirama bullies even those slender vines back into the soil. “There’s no need for that.”

Tobirama has never seen his brother quite so…disappointed. Too, Izuna—the man who would find a way to bite if he had no limbs—only puts up a token struggle before falling still, trembling in his bonds. The situation is strange and he gets the impression he’s missing something substantial.

“No need? Oh, I think there’s a fucking need!” Izuna laughs hollowly. “Soul-mates, eh, Nii-san? And here I thought you said the main line had to be ‘above such things as personal matters’, that our people’s welfare came before our own. No wonder you were spouting Senju rhetoric. I guess it would be hard not to when you’re being puppeteered by a Senju dick up your a—”

A resounding slap rings out, clear even over the distant sound of battle.

“That was beneath you,” Madara says, nostrils flared, jaw clenched, and looking for all the world like the clan head he is. He holds Izuna’s smoldering glare, only smoothing his palm over the sting when his brother looks away. “And I never once meant soul-mates, Otouto. _Never once_.”

In a display of vulnerability Tobirama would never have thought him capable of, Izuna leans into the glove, all fight visibly leaving him. “Well, you could have said so,” he says petulantly.

“Did I really need to?”

As if on cue, Hashirama pats dirt from his torn hakama and insinuates his way between them, shooting Tobirama an apologetic wince. The tenderness with which he eases the mokuton away and replaces it with his arms is worrisome. 

“Ah, apparently you did, old friend,” he chimes in gently, taking care to act as a visual barrier while Izuna collects himself.

It’s bizarre. This entire day has been mind-numbingly bizarre—like a drug-induced genjutsu. Tobirama can make neither heads nor tails of it. Grievously wounding Uchiha Madara and somehow confirming a soul-bond that Tobirama was only partially convinced was there in the first place was already on the cusp of believability. Having that bond bloom in the span of a single morning and allowing the alien sensation of fate to anchor his affections, even less believable. But this. This is—he’s never seen Hashirama so openly covetous.

A glimpse of broad hands, skin seemingly darker when caressing a face almost as pale as his own. Then Tobirama watches as his brother leans down and realizes he wasn’t the only one to find an unexpected connection today.

“The hell are you d—” Madara begins, digging his fingers in and twisting the Senju crest on the back of Hashirama’s haori beyond recognition, ready to yank. Tobirama is quick to intercept.

“Madara, stop,” he commands crisply. It’s incredibly telling the way his soul-mate lets go immediately and looks to him with nothing more than a light touch to his wrist. “I believe there’s more going on here than we’re aware.”

At that, Izuna laughs derisively, though it sounds muffled. Another wet, smothered noise and Hashirama confidently turns in place, Izuna having to shuffle quickly to keep from being dragged.

“There is. We’re soul-mates, too! We’ve known for ages, though.” Hashirama announces, eyes crinkling with the force of his smile. Izuna—wicked, vicious, hateful Little Beast—hides his face in Hashirama’s chest like a child, though that doesn’t stop Tobirama from noting the impressive shade of red his ears have turned. Perhaps his opinion is skewed, Tobirama concedes, but fate has obviously resorted to throwing kunai in the dark. Ridiculous. This entire situation is surely crafted for the kami’s entertainment.

There’s a muffled string of something vitriolic, then Izuna rears back and goes on his toes to peck the tip of Hashirama’s chin.

It’s undeniably sweet.

Tobirama wants to break something. By the steadily building smoke curling up from the cuffs of Madara’s gloves, they’re on the same page in that respect.

“Hashirama,” Madara says warningly.

“Oh, shut-up, Nii-san, you don’t get to be pissy right now. You had your little lovers’ soiree while the rest of us were risking our lives. This is my moment, I’ve waited five years, and I’ll thank you to butt out,” Izuna retorts primly, taking advantage of the besotted way Hashirama looks down at him to push up again. This time he manages to capture his lips.

Tobirama has never cared to watch his Anija fall in love, so he turns his back to the spectacle and instead focuses on the battle at large. Arms crossed, he studies the natural ebb and flow, noting that, while the warriors appear exhausted, there looks to be no casualties. He expected as much, but still, it’s pleasant to see the ravenous ground made to go hungry.

Clashing blades flicker like fish in the oppressive brightness of the high sun. Paired shinobi circle each other, more reminiscent of samurai than the highly specialized assassins they are. This is what war has done to them. It’s turned them into creatures they’re not.

A tense arm loops around his waist and Tobirama lifts his own to bring Madara in against his side.

“After I kill your brother, we need to signal a retreat,” the Uchiha grunts, sidling close enough that Tobirama can smell the ozone on him. 

“You’ll do nothing of the sort,” Tobirama replies, brokering no argument. “And there’s no need to concern yourself, Anija’s wood clones are already starting to deteriorate.”

“His what?”

Tobirama raises his unoccupied arm and points to a flagging Senju at the edge of the dried-up river bed. Seemingly drawn by their attention, the man turns toward them, eyes bunched right on top of each other at midline and tongue lolling. Madara stares in rapt horror as the monstrous thing waves and melts into the ground.

“What the _fuck_?”

His screech is startling enough to interrupt whatever is going on behind them. Hashirama hurries over—Izuna not a half step behind. As soon as he realizes what the problem is, he scratches the back of his head and laughs sheepishly. “Oh, sorry! Sometimes my clones go a little funny when I get distracted.” A pause. “I was really, really distracted.”

The obvious insinuation isn’t necessary.

Izuna’s sly, satisfied smirk even less so. 

“You fought me and managed to control an entire regiment of clones at the same time?” Izuna asks incredulously, punctuating his question with a lewd groan. There’s a beat of silence where he just stares. Patting Hashirama’s chest, he finally pulls away and breaks into a slow, loping run, grinning back over his shoulder. “Nii-san, I’m going home before I ride your friend into the ground right here in front of you. I’m expecting an apology tonight. If there’s not at least a full ten minutes of groveling involved, I’m setting my shrikes loose on your futon.” A spirited slip-slide through the loose dirt bracketing their plinth and he’s taking off across the field in a cloud of dust.

As Tobirama internally curses the brat’s name, his most vaunted foe stops abruptly to wave and blow a kiss.

Hashirama catches it, then squawks in affront when Madara smacks his hand full-force. “That is my otouto and you will not behave like an animal,” Madara snaps, entirely aware of his hypocrisy judging by the way he flushes from the neck up.

Bemused, Tobirama ignores the remainder of their conversation and watches the Uchiha forces rally to Izuna’s call. As one, they turn towards the East and disappear into the distant tree line. When the last sandal is devoured by shadow, he returns to the conversation at hand only to note that his brother is gone and Madara is watching him expectantly.

He hums in question, readily turning his head to accept a chaste kiss. He would be lying if he claimed he didn’t miss the weight of Madara leaning against his side when they separate. His warmth is preternatural and divine. It leaves an unpleasant coolness in its wake.

“I have an apology to make, then you’ll have your ceasefire,” Madara says slowly, reluctant to leave. “Be well, Koibito.”

And just like that, all of the good will Madara had accrued shatters around them. “ _Excuse me_?” Tobirama’s scowl is surely something his idiot soul-mate won’t soon forget.

“What? Too soon for endearments?”

Tobirama continues to stare him down in revulsion.

“Too soon,” Madara confirms, laughing uproariously as he tears off after his brother, not cowed in the least.

***

End of Part 2

~~1.) It takes three weeks to convince Izuna to stand beside him before the council of elders. Another two to strong-arm them into setting aside centuries-old blood oaths, and three months after that to draft a peace accord with actual merit. By the time they’ve decided on neutral ground and a date, Madara is coming out of his skin.~~ (Chosen route: Izuna being his charming self gets things moving quickly. "Consequences" for the final chapter.)

 ~~2.) It takes three weeks to convince Izuna to stand beside him before the council of elders. Another two to strong-arm them into setting aside centuries-old blood oaths, and three months after that to draft a peace accord with actual merit. He’s not well known for his patience by any stretch of the imagination, but Madara finds himself strangely at ease with the way things are unfolding.~~ (The tone of the fic would have been different and likely elongated it. The chapter would have been set during actual negotiations with Madara getting a taste of Tobirama's leadership skills, more of a meeting of intellectual equals as opposed to raging need to get it on. XD) 

## Click here to vote:

<https://forms.gle/DuRTtLeJtor83b6T7>

(Comment responses below:)

Gotta go with 2 here. I REALLY want Izuna to see them holding hands and squawk about it and be all, 'Dammit Madara, couldn't you have the decency to hide this and pine in silence?' Which leads to Madara putting two and two together and figuring out exactly who Hashirama's soulmate must be and flailing like the muppet he is. And I would actually like a split POV for the home stretch if you could? But Tobirama if not I guess. **Awww, that would have been cute!**

I choose number two because I am a person who likes to see the world burn (but not burn in it) and because I want to see Izuna's reaction. **Isn’t that a fucking MOOD.**

10/10!!!!! MADARA BBY GONNA BE SO PROUD EVERYONE KNOWS!!! **Omg, he’s going to be completely insufferable.**

I feel the first option would be the most accurate. However the second just feels so cute that I can't ignore it. Totally. **Fortunately, we get to rely on magical soul-mate mechanics to get those affection levels where they need to be as opposed to another 100k of build-up!**

oh ho ho!!! kissing!! yeeesssss!!! and also in the lap now that deserves some *wiggling eyebrows* but also like wow madara?? you're someone worth war?? that's so romantic my dude??? like nice good make tobirama pause in his tracks with that fantastic job mads your reward is tobira and the satisfaction of making him stop thinking for two seconds but also handholding possibilities if others agree with me on the voting ho ho ho handholding. in front! of izuna! I cannot wait. to see how izuna reacts to some good wholesome handholding between madara and tobirama. really to anything between madara and tobirama because like. hes gonna throw a fit. but like, hes got hashirama so honestly he has nothing to complain about thank you!! **Handholding?! Goodness, what kind of saucy fic do you think this is? lol**

Choosing 2 for the potential shock value :) (I kind of want to write in "both" for POV, but that would be greedy.) **Unfortunately, I prefer to write in limited 3 rd person, so only one. T_T**

Voting 2 in anticipation of Izuna being anti-peace - AGAIN. I think the holding hands not only sends a message but Hashi will flip into squeals and Izuna will flip period. Hoping for chaos and fluff. **Your wish is my command!**

2 - because if Tobirama has made up his mind, I see him going all in. Also, it's a good way to mess with the Uchiha (particularly Izuna), which, he'll have to find non-violent ways of doing from now on due to his promise. Madara, I'd like to see his thoughts. Although I wouldn't object to alternating, so that we can see both. **Tobirama in this fic has a very intense personality. Once he decides on an action, he follows it to the end. Luckily Madara won that dedication. <3**

aAaaaaaaAaaAAAAAA **bBbbbbbbBbbBBBBBB**

Izuna is going to be so "ANIKI WHAT ARE YOU DOING" when the just pop back up holding hands and with Madara all blushy from the smooching. (Or still smooching!) Also I am dearly hoping we get to hear Madara's internal monologue waxing poetic over Tobirama even MORE. **STILL SMOOCHING. And yes, that poor boy is head over heels in love already…he’s going to be ridiculous.**

I like option 2 best here, Why? With Izuna’s screeching the reports of their bond will echo to the elders before the battle even finishes XD **The elders are going to get TWO reports even. >:D**

Omg, you've been so tricksy...but I'm going to vote TobiA. Let my choice not defeat me... **I…I have to get my kicks somehow. Lol No worries, I won’t be tricky anymore. *sigh* from here on out it’s about to be straight-up porn with feelings.**

I'm in favor of peace, but I don't think my wish will come to pass right now lol I think I would like to read the POV from both of them?! I'm sorry if is too much to ask... **Peace talks are on the way! Unfortunately, I need to keep to one POV for the final run. Two would be too choppy and 3d person omniscient just isn’t my preference.**

For the POV, I personally want an even mix, even though it's probably just inconvenient for you qwq. I'm also the anon you cradled on chapter 10 I think uwu. I'm just gonna go with Tobirama though cuz everyone knows Madara's POV will just be sappy and he's already in love, and I wanna see Tobirama fall in love uwu. **Lmao Obviously you were my commenter soul-mate for that chapter. XD**

tbh, i kinda want an outside pov, at least for the part where they jump back into battle. like what are the rest of the senju and uchiha going to think when they see madara and tobi together? **That would be AWESOME! Unfortunately, I have to stick to what people voted on from the get go, which was essentially a Tobirama/Madara split.**

for the additional poll, can's chose, both are good! **Both? Both. Both is good.**

Handholding! When Tobi has a a goal he goes for it, I think. Now that there is a goal and a plan of execution I can’t imagine him being missish about using PDA to hasten it along. **In this fic, Toblerone is very much a full force personality. Once he decides on something, he goes for it without restraint.**

I’m actually completely game for either point of view with no preference. I just want to see Izuna’s reaction to Madara and Tobirama coming back holding hands! Pissed off flailing little siblings for the win!! Although transporting right back into battle next to Hashirama seems a bit dangerous to do with one hand occupied. Meh, I mean we have already seen that Tobirama is a bit of a risk taker. So glad he didn’t permanently damage Madara though. **PISSED OFF IS RIGHT! Fortunately, Hashirama is always a ways away from the main skirmish and Tobirama’s going there holding hands with Uchiha Madara…the asshole who can mow down entire armies without breaking a sweat.**

Ooh I want both POV's! **XD Take pity.**

Okay, I'm going with #2 because I want to see people freak out. Like, the Uchiha being, "Is the Senju Demon holding Madara-sama's hAND?!!! WTF?????!!!! *cue flailing*" and the Senju being like, "Fuck, seems like Hashirama isn't the only one pining after an Uchiha." "ForK OVER THE CASH, TSUKI! I tOLD YOU!" "OH, fUCK YOU, TAKESHI!" ;D (And now I'm imagining that most of the Senju have become 'used' to the idea of peace and have just been betting on when and how it'll happen, with some brave souls randomly betting on Tobi snagging an Uchiha. [The Elders hate the bets, but can't really do anything about it because Hashirama not only fully endorses it, he's also one of the worst at making bets about ANYTHING and EVERYTHING. They don't want to deal with a sulky Clan Head])... **lolololol This would be hilarious.**


	13. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be on Wednesday. ^_^

It takes three weeks to convince Izuna to stand beside him before the council of elders. Another two to strong-arm them into setting aside centuries-old blood oaths, and three months after that to draft a peace accord with actual merit. By the time they’ve decided on neutral ground and a date, Madara is coming out of his skin.

Sitting through the formalities of diplomacy may well and truly kill him. His knees are going to burn through the tatami mats if this celebratory nonsense doesn’t resolve soon.

“You know, you wouldn’t be like this if you just snuck out and fucked like the rest of us,” Izuna casually announces in front of the entirety of the Uchiha-Senju delegation. Fortunately, the remark is swallowed by the bustle of signatures and celebratory sake and goes mostly unheard. Mostly. Hikaku’s laugh—a unique bark courtesy of a stab to the throat that never healed quite right—attests to the fact that it wasn’t entirely quieted. And when Madara snaps his head up to glare his cousin into submission, to scope out who else he needs to kill, Tobirama is watching him closely. His soul-mate raises a single white eyebrow before blinking slowly and returning his attention to Hashirama’s passionate gesticulations.

Shit.

“I’m going to flay you alive,” he snarls, leaning into his brother’s personal space under the guise of an embrace. “There won’t be enough of you left to burn by the time I’m through with you.”

Izuna nuzzles into his hair, returning the hug without hesitation. “Nii-san, we’ve talked about this. If you’re going to threaten me at least make it believable. We both know you wouldn’t do anything that would ruin this pretty face.”

There’s no denying Izuna is beautiful—he certainly stole the fairer looks for himself. And that’s _entirely beside the point_.

“Fine, you obnoxious brat,” he whispers, flexing his arms so tightly his brother begins to wheeze. “Then I’ll convince Hashirama of what a _great_ idea it would be to share a home. Just imagine, dual weddings. Both of our families happily cohabitating. Shoji screens so thin we’ll never be apart.”

Sage, the idea is foul. Even voicing it makes him want to shrivel-up and die. Hashirama’s bright grin preceding the dawn not a centimeter from his face in the morning. Shared meals spent weeding out the dishes Izuna poisoned before Tobirama joins them at the table. Bathing with glacial thoughts to keep from embarrassing himself when his soul-mate’s hands inevitably sweep a touch too low.

The worst part is it’s a scenario Hashirama would absolutely run with. Their only saving grace is that he’s never considered the possibility.

Fortunately, Izuna is too horrified to call his bluff.

“You wouldn’t,” he gasps, putting an unnecessary amount of force into patting Madara’s back like a doting brother. Right on top of his kidneys.

“Try me,” Madara snarls, clawing into Izuna’s haori, equally as loving.

“Am I interrupting something?”

One last painful slap and Izuna leans back, looking for all the world like an innocent, wine-flushed debutante. It’s awe inspiring the way he can obfuscate, though from Tobirama’s narrowed eyes and tight-lipped frown, there are at least two men in the world who can see through his well-honed bullshit.

“Just congratulating my dear clan head on his diplomatic conquest! I mean, the sheer girth of his accomp—” Izuna begins, only to be cut off by an upraised palm.

“Anija is intoxicated and lacking inhibition. Go.”

And while typically Izuna would ignore any order or insinuation out of pure spite, Madara isn’t surprised to see him leap up from their chabudai and hastily put his kimono to rights. The pale green fabric complements him surprisingly well. He cinches it tighter at the waist for some inexplicable reason that Madara has no interest in investigating further and bounds away without a goodbye.

“Your family is—”

The mystery of what his family is goes undiscovered when Izuna comes charging back not a second later, shoulders Tobirama aside, and absconds once again with the sake tokkuri in-hand.

Tobirama inhales long and slow. “The Shimura clan has an extensive series of water gardens if drinking does not interest you,” he says, extending a hand in invitation.

It doesn’t. The only thing that interests Madara right now is how Tobirama’s shoulders are every bit as broad without the fur mantle. How his soul-mate resembles a cold, but benevolent kami as he towers over him—all long, pale lines and corded muscle. Madara could watch him for days and not lack for a new and different trait to poeticize.

Apparently his slack-jawed appreciation shows, not that he minds the slip. Pink is a good color on Tobirama’s cheeks. “Well?”

“Whatever it takes to get my hands on you,” Madara replies with an honest grin.

In love, in war, he’s nothing if not direct.

Sighing long-sufferingly, Tobirama accepts his hand and pulls him to his feet. “Come, then.”

If fate is merciful, he will, Madara thinks. Thrumming with frenetic energy, he lengthens his stride to match Tobirama’s, fingers intertwining of their own accord. His gloves tonight are Aburame silk and catch at the calluses on Tobirama’s palm. It’s another glorious reminder that his soul-mate is someone who shares his love of battle—a man who can challenge him and dance without having to change the tempo.

If they were on Uchiha lands and not sequestered on neutral ground, their first night alone would have been explosive. Lashing out with jutsu and fists until they fell together with their blood still running hot.

Even so, this is a good start, too.

The Shimura grounds are low and flat. Rice paddies stretch out in the distance as far as the eye can see, cradling the light of a fat moon and drawing forth lightning bugs. It’s as if the heavens have descended for one sweet, balmy evening.

A reward for waiting nearly five months and a lifetime before that.

“This is beautiful,” Tobirama says softly so as not to disturb the tranquility of the night. “After so many years of blood and death, I had almost forgotten what beauty looked like.” Their sandals slap a quiet metronome across a series of narrow, wooden bridges.

Madara squeezes Tobirama’s hand, heart in his throat. “I haven’t. I’ve had you to look at, after all,” he says, equally as hushed.

There’s a beat of silence as Tobirama pulls them to a stop, red eyes glowing with the reflections on the water. It’s abruptly broken by an obnoxious snort.

“That was awful. Saccharine and uninspired. If you’ve been taking clandestine lessons from Hashirama I’m returning to the sake,” he drawls, because apparently all of that pretty is a decoy for the asshole underneath.

If possible, Madara falls even deeper in love.

“Fuck you. It’s not my fault if you can’t appreciate romance,” he snaps back primly. “Idiot, backwards Senju. Your brother is the only one with mokuton because the rest of you keep it lodged up your collective ass.”

Tobirama’s laugh is so loud it’s startling. It rolls out over the waterways, deep and joyous in a way Madara never would have expected. Watching the apples of his cheeks grow full and his eyes crinkle at the corners, it’s hard not to see the family resemblance. By the Sage, his smile is devastating.

In that moment more than any that has come before, Madara _wants_.

~~1.) He turns suddenly and wrenches Tobirama down the smattering of centimeters it takes to put them of a height. Whereas their first kiss was a compromise of sorts—a meeting in the middle—this is nothing but Madara’s conquest. He angles his head the way Tobirama taught him that first time and surges forward, open-mouthed, wet, and filthy. Fully intent on devouring.~~ Fanfic porn. Perfect sex, throbbing members, no such thing as ED. lololol j/k Madara would have tried to be Don Juan and Tobirama would have schooled him into compliance. 

~~2.) Reaching up, he hooks the back of Tobirama’s neck and tugs insistently, but allowing him the option to pull away. Madara knows he looks a besotted fool, what with his desperation laid bare in the moonlight. But none of that matters when Tobirama follows his cue and, still chuckling, gives him the tenderness he’s been craving for months.~~ Chosen route: More realistic, feelings, fumbling, etc.

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(Comment replies below:)

Number one just sounds more Madara like. **Agreed! I typically have one option that is canon Madara and one that is softened. ;D**

"This entire situation is surely crafted for the kami’s entertainment." I read kami as author...just so you know. Now, may Madara VIBRATE OUT OF HIS OWN SKIN IN UST! **YES! YOU CAUGHT MY LITTLE FOURTH WALL BREAK! I was laughing when I wrote that and wondering if anyone would catch it. XD The poor boy just needs to get cuddled and laid in no particular order. T_T**

Ahhhhhh! Satisfaction! BOTH couples satisfy my worst cravings. Now for the elders and the village. Let's watch the flailing, nitpicking and Tobi stare down stupidity. Also, can I say I love you? **< 3 <3 <3 I’m so invested in the HashiIzu side piece, you have no idea. XDDD**

oh no baby,, izuna i'm so sorry for thinking teasing things,, how the heck did you misinterpret your big bro that badly!!! but like also that's so sweet?? izuna thought? that it included soulmates?? so against his whole culture and everything he is he rejected his soulmate for his big bro?? ;o; a sweet heart. he deserves to climb that hashi-tree gg izuna also like wow madara the instant regret of realizing he can't tell hashirama not to bang his baby brother when he's probably been thinking about banging tobirama since the lap thing at minimum. . ...the kiss literally right in front of them as the most recent time probably okay so i can't forget to comment on things if i comment while reading lets see my brain forget something now!!! won't need to send a follow up ask this time!! the mokuton wrestling coyly?? that is? so extra for flirting gg hashi and izuna// and then like the end with hashirama fighting izuna and also controlling a ton of wood clones like on the one hand *wow that's -threatening-* on the other hand!! hashi wants peace and you know whats a good way to have peace? none of the soldiers can get hurt or hurt others if you are literally all of them and it's not like anyone can argue after he proves he can do it goddamn and!! tobis description of his bro this entire chapter. the grace of log, giant handsome brute, disagreeing with madara on principle only because of his brotherly duties. and then getting absolutely blindsided by hashi having kept his soulmate completely secret!! and hashi catching the kiss and madara smacking it out of his hand!! they are already family! like, i know it's inlaws but god those two are such brothers in this one i love it thank you! **Izuna loves his Nii-san, okay!? T_T Yuuuuuuup, Madara has no room to object whatsoever. Hashirama is terrifying canonically; I have no doubt our homeboy could run a dual front offense if Madara is taken out of the equation. Lol And yes! One of the things I love best about 3 rd person limited is I can flavor the narration according to the character’s thoughts. It’s SO FUN and leaves room for interpretation/investigation. I’m glad you enjoyed the chapter!**

I have decided Madara is totally the type to write love letters. **In this AU? Absofuckinglutely.**

1 for the share comedy potential as Tobirama *looks* at him. That, and Madara doesn't strike me as patient in his personal life. Professional life, maybe, with great effort, but it doesn't come naturally to him. **100% agreed!**

*squint eyes* That looks like another tricksy choice. The total elapsed time is not much longer than the skip we already saw, so if Madara could stand that wait, why not this one? On the other hand, we didn't actually see that he wasn't impatient; maybe he was. At a guess, (1) is the branch where he's had HashiIzu shenanigans rubbed in his face more, and (2) is where he's been sneaking off to canoodle with Tobirama. Or dance. That's almost as good as canoodling, right? No more tricks! I promise! **The choices were just setting the environmental context and the tone this go round.**

Decisions decisions, do we want a restlessly pining Madara, or a weirdly zen Madara? I'm kind of surprised it took Madara three whole weeks to convince Izuna, unless this was Izuna's chance to be a petty bitch because HE had to suffer in silence for FIVE YEARS ANIKI, thinking his brother would HATE HIM FOR HIS SOULMATE BOND ANIKI and he decided to let Madara stew a bit. lols Anyway, gonna go with 1, because I just can't see Madara not climbing out of his own skin after five months of radio silence and that last kiss to remind him what he's working for. **Izuna was 100% being a petty bitch. XDDD**

I feel like 1 is *ahem* more aggressive sexy times and 2 is more of a sweet sweet romance or a plot heavy “someone’s gonna try to ruin the peace treaty or whatever”. Guess I’m in the mood for soft feels or plot :p this is fun! I think ur choose ur own adventure set up is a cool way to be surprised even by your own works! Tho I know I wouldn’t be able to stay unbiased haha **2 would have def been more plot heavy, more focused on politics instead of just Madara being horny. XD I’m glad you’re having fun! I stay unbiased by following direction well. ;D**

Aw I love Hashirama and Izuna’s dynamic... Madara’s attempts to protect his baby brother’s virtue made me lol **Right? I live for the snippets of HashiIzu I get to shove in.**

Because.....Madara! **Do it for HIM.**

With how quickly he jumped on the soulmate wagon (from assassination to love in one encounter!) and then immediately went about trying to woo his soulmate and telling Hashirama about the discovery I just cannot see Madara being at ease with them having to wait more than a month, especially when you add in the frustration of dealing with the elders and having to grovel to Izuna over a misunderstanding for weeks on end. I wouldn’t be surprised if Madara jumped Tobirama before the ink on the treaty had a chance to dry. (‘IsigneditokayBYE!’*whisking Tobirama away as he speaks*) **In this AU the Uchiha are raised to cherish soul-mates above ALL. Madara had that switch flip. lol**

I'm actually kinda torn. Hm. Shit. I guess 1? Mada getting antsy could be interesting. **Interesting and horny. ^_^**

I'm choosing one because FRUSTRATION! Get the tension up so when it explodes its more fun! As in, ripping each others clothes off fun, hee. **Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas**

Being calm and patient is not the Madara I know lol **NOPE. But I have to give options. lol**

Mmm, I really want to see both, but I guess I'll choose 2. Smoother sailing sounds more appealing at the moment. **< 3 Nothing but smooth sailing no matter the choices now. :D**


	14. Madara

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Conclusion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys, this has been an absolute blast! Thank you so much for participating and I hope you had fun!

Reaching up, he hooks the back of Tobirama’s neck and tugs insistently, still allowing him the option to pull away. Madara knows he looks a besotted fool, what with his desperation laid bare in the moonlight. But none of that matters when Tobirama follows his cue and, still chuckling, gives him the tenderness he’s been craving for months.

This time the kiss is slow and careful—first a chaste press of lips to his brow, his cheek, the corner of his mouth, and only then where he wants it most. Hungry. Devouring. There’s time now to explore, to chase every loose thread of their soul-bond and tie them so inexorably that the shinigami itself couldn’t wrench them apart. Tobirama’s hands cupping the sides of his face serve as anchors—gentle moors—demonstrating how to keep the right angle and what rhythm fits them best in these new and different dance steps.

Following the direction of another isn’t a skill that comes naturally, particularly when Madara is a man on fire. This sweet, unhurried taste of things to come has him itching to burst out of his own skin. He wants it all—everything Tobirama has to give.

Groaning, he digs his thumb into the folds of Tobirama’s obi and pulls them flush with a sharp jerk. Anything to alleviate some of the desire, to get Tobirama as close as possible—legs entwined and teasing the possibility of having this perfect man in him.

They stumble back against the railing, not stopping even when it gives a warning creak.

It doesn’t matter. Let it buckle under their weight. Madara can take a cock just as easily in the water as he can on dry land, he thinks. His opinion isn’t coming from a place of practical experience, but the mechanics seem sound.

In theory.

Shamelessly frotting against the hard line of Tobirama’s thigh with more enthusiasm than finesse, Madara thinks maybe he should have spent some time over the last few months researching these things instead of rushing in headlong.

Even so, they’re not doing too bad.

Every sensuous roll of Tobirama’s body against him, each wet, confident swipe as he measures the weight of Madara’s tongue with his own, threatens to unmake him. The pressure and friction of his kimono are exquisite torture, flirting with the edges of too much. Cupping firm buttocks, Tobirama arches back into his palms and Madara is mollified by the knowledge that he’s not the only one slavering at the end of their bond like a beast. 

By the time he realizes he’s been holding his breath, his lungs are aching in tandem with the swelling between his legs.

Impressive that his soul-mate’s ardor can tax even an Uchiha’s vital capacity.

Reacting immediately to the urgent pat on his hip, Tobirama hums against Madara’s lips and eases back just far enough to share breath as they pant. “Is this too much?” he has the audacity to ask, shifting his thigh to sit a little bit higher between Madara’s legs. “We can slow down if it’s too much.”

And the offer would be a rare, heart-warming show of kindness from a shinobi born and bred, if the bastard wasn’t watching him with mischief in his eyes. Vexatious little shit. As if Madara could be so thoroughly conquered by something as paltry as a taste of passion and rough, clever hands.

But, oh, what a taste.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he snarls as if he’s not already on the brink, lips swollen and cheeks flushed. He widens his stance and grinds down, radiating heat even through the multitudinous layers of kimono. The brazen show has Tobirama’s brow rising, but still he doesn’t seem anywhere near as taken as Madara is. It’s simultaneously infuriating and excruciatingly attractive.

“Ruin me?” Tobirama asks, chasing his question with a brief nip, there and gone. “Would you even know where to start?”

And if that’s not a challenge, nothing is.

“Never once have I allowed myself to be found lacking, Senju. In anything,” Madara snaps, pointedly ignoring an insidious curl of uncertainty and smothering it under the mass of his ego. “And if my knowledge is incomplete, you only have yourself to blame for not sharing yours.”

And just like that, Tobirama’s expression shifts, softens. He takes a moment to card his fingers through Madara’s hair and sweep the bulk of it back over his shoulders to allow the sweet evening air a caress of its own. 

Madara swallows heavily as chakra takes up a staccato beat behind his eyes. It requires a Herculean effort for him to keep his Sharingan dormant, to deny himself the glorious memory of his soul-mate backlit by the moon and all but glowing in the prime of his power. His lips are swollen, cherry red and intoxicating. They make for a devastatingly glorious splash of color against the swath of a strong jawline.

When he speaks, Madara is nearly lost.

“You well know the soul bond only draws on information the partner is passionate about. Sex wasn’t important to me until I met you, Uchiha Madara,” Tobirama admits, voice as deep and sensuous as the night.

And, oh. _Oh_. Madara’s heart lurches in his chest. His clenched fists loosen in the back of Tobirama’s haori, sliding down—silk on silk—to rest on narrow hips. Looking up, Madara has never felt so exposed, so utterly devastated. But then he notes the almost invisible twitch at the corner of Tobirama’s mouth and can’t help groaning like a wounded animal.

“You’re teasing me,” he concludes, speaking through clenched teeth. If not for the still-wet ink of the Senju-Uchiha peace treaty, he would knock Tobirama on his ass and give the little upstart the thrashing he deserves. But then Tobirama smiles again and all thoughts of severe bodily trauma fall by the wayside.

“I am,” he states without remorse, entirely too amused.

“Asshole! I should beat you bloody and leave you to your hand,” Madara grouses, though they both know it will take an act of forces far greater than they are to keep them apart now that the bond has had a taste of completion. “That was a good line, though,” he begrudgingly admits.

Tobirama nods, head cocked and thoughtful. “Of course it was.” The implication that everything he does is masterfully wrought goes unsaid. “Though, I must admit, I find your susceptibility to professions of love to be,” he pauses, searching for the term, “surprising. I’m well aware of your clan’s predisposition to romantic notions, but I never would have expected the same of you.”

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Madara barks. His body is confused, unsure whether to spread further at the feel of Tobirama’s answering hardness or let the rising rage drive his fists.

The internal battle must show on his face. 

“Don’t look so offended,” Tobirama scoffs, making the decision for him. “You are strong in ways most shinobi aren’t. Dedicated, and driven by purpose. I find these traits to be desirous and I had thought them to exist only in the absence of love.”

Swallowing heavily, Madara goes lax, lets the tension drain from his shoulders. “And what do you think now?” he asks with faux nonchalance.

They watch each other for a long moment—remembering, measuring. Then Tobirama pulls one of Madara’s wrists to his mouth and presses a kiss to the strong thrum of his pulse. Nosing further, he rubs his cheek against Madara’s palm, drags the glove off with his teeth.

“I believe now that I’m open to the possibility of their coopetition.”

This time when Tobirama presses his face against the overly-sensitive skin, Madara can feel his shallow breaths as they sooth the mild burn of his stubble. Each rasp calls up the exquisite memory of the first and only time Madara has been bested in his prime—the pain and the ocean-deep breadth of Tobirama’s chakra branding him from within.

It was then that Madara knew he couldn’t be without. This only reaffirms it.

“Fuck,” he whispers, eyes wide and annoyance forgotten. It’s hard to hold onto his anger in the face of honest hands and sake kisses.

“An agreeable solution. I believe a change of location is in order?” Tobirama replies in a voice more god than man. He pulls back, tugging Madara’s hair lightly and dragging the suggestion of teeth across the meat of his palm.

“If you aren’t in, on, or under me in the next five minutes, I can’t be held responsible for the grievous bodily harm I’m going to inflict on you,” Madara replies, gentling the threat by reeling Tobirama back into the circle of his muscular arms. “And feed me more soppy lines while you’re at it.”

Huffing another of his rich laughs, Tobirama eases in, leans down to whisper what promises to be a spectacularly over-inflated bit of poetry. “If I could but hold—” he begins, only to be interrupted by a resounding crack.

Shinobi reflexes fail them.

The railing gives way as petty payback for all of the kami Madara pissed off over the course of his lifetime. The posts splinter where they’re fastened to the bridge’s struts and he experiences an odd weightlessness only moments before the stars shift in his line of sight. He instinctively wraps an arm around Tobirama’s waist, vice-like, and curses so vehemently a burst of flame licks his lips.

There’s no avoiding it, nothing to brace against. As tangled as they are, they’re going down.

However, before the surface of the water smacks against his back and floods his kimono, the stars move again, this time exploding in a blinding flash on all sides. The impact, when it comes, is soft, warm, and smells like oil and ink.

Madara hisses from where he’s pinned against what feels like a futon, blinking rapidly to clear the white afterimage from his eyes. Fortunately, he’s not being water-boarded in a half-meter deep pond. Unfortunately, Tobirama’s jutsu is an absolute nightmare when used at night and his only saving grace is that he didn’t give in to the urge to activate his Sharingan. That would have been a debacle.

Even so, as much as his eyes are watering, he can only wonder what the delegation must have thought of the burst of magnesium-bright chakra, how many drunken Uchiha and Senju are likely scrambling to take up arms. At least this time they’ll be on the same side.

It makes him chuckle at the absurdity of it all.

“Was a time limit not enough? Sabotaging the bridge seems a rather brutish way of forcing my hand when I was already agreeable,” Tobirama drawls, because even settled provocatively between Madara’s upraised knees he can’t be bothered to control his cheek.

“Hush. I don’t need your commentary, I need your cock,” Madara commands. Learning to navigate the eccentricities of Tobirama’s sharp affection is getting easier, he thinks. Bluntness with a playful bite suits them both. Apparently his soul-mate feels the same, surging forward to capture his lips in a kiss that reignites the simmering desire.

Clawing into the back of Tobirama’s clothing, Madara gives as good as he gets.

Tobirama is built along leaner lines—long legs and narrow at the waist and hips—but even without sporting Madara’s bulk, he’s a heavy weight, grounding and reaffirming. Too, he knows how to use his stature to his advantage, splaying his knees wide to keep Madara trapped.

As if he would ever try to escape.

Madara purposefully changes the angle of the kiss, letting it grow wet and sloppy in a bid to capture Tobirama’s lower lip. As soon as he does, his maddening soul-mate grinds down and drags a hot line where they’re hard and wanting. The maneuver has Madara gasping and releasing his hard-won prize on the same breath.

“You—!”

Before he can let loose a string of less-than-complimentary descriptors, Tobirama slaps a hand over his mouth and bullies forward. Their chests rub as he licks a sweltering trail along the shell of Madara’s ear.

“Me,” he agrees, blowing gently to ease the burn.

This is it, Madara thinks as he shivers and arches his neck for more, this is how he’ll die. Not on the battlefield with his gunbai in-hand, but here, laid out beneath the Senju clan heir. Toes curling in his stupid, decorative sandals, kimono bunched up around his thighs. And all from nothing more scintillating than a few well-placed touches.

No matter how powerful their bond, this is ridiculous. It’s fantastic. Tobirama is everything.

He eagerly wraps his legs around Tobirama’s hips and digs heels into his buttocks, flexing with insurmountable strength to pull them flush. Tobirama grunts and pitches forward, slamming his chin against Madara’s forehead. There’s nothing to romanticize about the muffled crack or the shared grunt.

The jolt of pain isn’t sexy in the least.

“By the Sage, Madara,” Tobirama groans, pushing up to catch him in that vivid red glare, surer than any Sharingan. His face goes through an impressive array of emotions, finally settling on exasperation. “I am your soul-mate, correct? Trust in me to give you what you need before we both end up concussed,” he says tartly.

And, yes, Madara deserves that. Embarrassment is an alien concept and one he is quickly becoming intimate with—far more intimate the longer Tobirama stares at him, unblinking. Sex is quite possibly not as simple as it sounded in terms of theory versus execution. Though, if he keeps this up, he may very well be executed by the end of it.

He can’t help it, he laughs. It starts out as abrupt, nasally huffs, then builds until he throws his head back into the mass of his hair and guffaws so hard his stomach aches.

Tobirama rides out the rhythmic shuddering, carefully brushing Madara’s bangs out of his face and using the hold to smother him with his mouth. It can’t be considered a kiss, not by any means, but it eases the hilarity and pulls Madara back to his body. He falls loose and pliant, coming down with only a few more hitched breaths.

When he finally falls still, Tobirama rests his forehead against Madara’s and sweeps their noses together.

“You ridiculous man,” he pronounces. 

“I am,” Madara agrees readily. “But I’m your problem now.”

“A burden I’ll have to learn to bear with grace if not dignity.”

Sitting up slowly, Tobirama sinks back and kneels between Madara’s legs exactly as he had that day so many months ago. “Tonight I had intended to—It doesn’t matter,” he says, wincing as he rubs his chin. “The wait has been too long. Allow me to take you apart and you have my word that at the next opportunity we’ll make the time to learn each other better. For now, let me fuck you, Uchiha Madara, before you kill us both.”

How flattering.

“Fine,” Madara mutters, rolling his eyes. “Next time you’re going to teach me—”

“Everything,” Tobirama interjects.

“Yes. That.”

And finally, _finally_ there are clever hands untying the knot in his obi and brushing the fabric away to settle on either side of his chest. Madara knows he’s gorgeous. His skin is moon-kissed and his body well-honed, but it’s nice to be so openly appreciated. If he takes the opportunity to curl and arch to show himself to full advantage, there’s no one here to call him on his obvious showboating.

The small, unintentional thrust of Tobirama’s hips is flattering beyond measure.

“Like what you see,” he hums, not bothering to restrain his conceit.

Tobirama considers him for a beat, toying with the trail of hair descending from his navel. “Underwhelming,” he concludes. “I’ll have to see the rest to gather enough empirical evidence for a proper decision.” Then he yanks and the bloom of pain in such a sensitive area has Madara lifting his hips with a yelp.

Sly and calculating even in this, his soul-mate pushes his advantage by sliding Madara’s pants and fundoshi down over the swell of his ass all in one go. Madara’s cock slaps loudly against his stomach and Tobirama has the audacity to look nothing but enticing as he studies every inch of bared skin without shame.

“Ah, perhaps I was mistaken.”

If Madara wasn’t spread out like an offering, he’d kick Tobirama in those perfect teeth. Funny how his lust is so closely paralleled by his ire.

“Ugh! Aren’t you supposed to be feeding me sweet nothings? Poetry?” he hisses. However, before he can squirm into a more tactical position or tear Tobirama’s kimono open at the seams, knowing hands stroke against the grain along his inner thighs. It’s not like he hasn’t been touched there, but never like this. Never with passionate intent and daring fingers.

Tobirama dips his thumbs down into the valley of Madara’s Apollo’s belt, driving him to suck in a noisy breath. Red eyes narrow when those ministrations are rewarded with a sudden and immediate pliancy.

“Why would I when your body speaks poetry enough for the both of us?” he answers, reluctantly leaning away to divest himself of his own kimono.

Artful. Devastating. Madara is so very weak for this man.

Tender beneath his austerity, with sharp, masculine features, and tattooed seals revealed when blue fabric slips off of his shoulders like silk. This is a shinobi with the story of his prowess written across his body. That the kimono pools in his lap without revealing anything further is a crime.

“This isn’t fair,” he wheezes, Sharingan struggling mightily under his control. Being their first time together, it wouldn’t do to startle his soul-mate. Still, he wishes he could allow his chakra to bleed through and preserve this image for perpetuity.

Tobirama simply snorts as he roots through his pockets. “What isn’t fair?”

“You.”

Madara doesn’t offer clarification, only reaches for Tobirama’s wrist and guides it between his legs.

With his heart fit to bursting, he needs an outlet. Something to focus on that’s not how fervently he wants to build a home and a life together in a village born of love. A dysfunctional family all his own.

Fortunately, that knowledge doesn’t transfer and Tobirama is quick to follow his cues.

Casting the kimono aside but for a small jar of honing oil, Tobirama threads their fingers to stroke Madara in tandem. He guides the pace, slow and controlled, trading touches all the while easing the foreskin down to swipe his thumb across the softness revealed.

Madara throws his head back, lips slack, as he takes everything Tobirama is willing to give.

Long, lascivious strokes to drive him to distraction.

An eager tongue laving his lower ribs where the skin is thin and sensitive.

Oil poured liberally along the crease of his thigh and coaxed down, down, down.

Madara tenses at the first sensation of a deft and oil-slick finger massaging lubricant around his hole. It’s a strange sensation being fondled there. The firm hand rolling his scrotum and pressing knuckles into his perineum is a familiar heat that he gifts himself regularly, but this is altogether different. Immeasurably more intimate.

Tobirama studies him closely as he swirls closer and finally applies enough pressure to warn but not penetrate. Raking his bottom lip with his teeth, Madara nods once then inhales sharply at the queer sensation of being entered. It’s not pain precisely, just a fullness where he’s not used to it. That the hand on his cock never slows helps.

“Should I—?”

“Don’t you dare stop.”

Fortunately, his soul-mate shows him mercy and feeds him more without pausing again for confirmation.

This is what Madara needs. He learns best through practical experience and hesitation has never been his purview. Another knuckle eased in and he’s grinding back down until his buttocks flatten against Tobirama’s fist. Following his direction, Tobirama doesn’t leave it at one finger for long. He pumps, stretches, and crooks his finger to drag out a breathy sigh even as he gathers more oil and doubles the girth. This time it’s uncomfortable, but not for long, and Madara is thankful to have such a mindful man for a soul-mate as opposed to one who would have accepted his boorish suggestion of shoving right in without preparation.

He’s learning. They both are.

“I feel I should apologize for earlier tonight,” Tobirama says, sounding uncharacteristically punched-out. “I doubted you when you claimed you would ruin me.” He flexes his arm and adds in a twist of the wrist that has Madara seeing stars. “I was wrong.”

Between the two of them, it would seem Tobirama is learning his lessons a bit faster, Madara thinks. Every time that pretty mouth opens, his cock jumps at the equally pretty words that fall out.

“I’m, ah, always right,” Madara reaffirms, balking when Tobirama reclaims his hand. He’s not gone for long, though. Soon enough, there’s the smell of honing oil and he’s filled slow and deep with enough thickness to have his hips rising of their own accord.

Clutching the sheets, Madara digs his heels in and tries to complement Tobirama’s rhythm. He fails spectacularly, but his reward is a soft chuckle and hair tickling his stomach as Tobirama leans down to kiss him there. He gives one last stroke to Madara’s erection and reclaims his hand.

“I look forward to being corrected.”

Freed, Madara’s cock twitches, smearing a line of precome along that long, pale neck.

It’s criminal how effortlessly intoxicating Tobirama is. From their less-than-auspicious start to now, Madara has grown more enchanted with each meeting. Odd how fate can pick and choose the most unlikely of people to ferret out all of the facets that articulate best.

But who is he to question anything that brings this much pleasure?

Tobirama’s fingers leave him with a wet squelch that has Madara pushing up to his elbows and watching from beneath dark lashes. Like this he can appreciate the white scars that accentuate Tobirama’s shoulders, the whip-cord muscle of his abdominals, and the flushed cock jutting tall between his thighs. 

Perfect as a moonbeam.

“Tobirama?”

“Hmm?” he hums, eyelids fluttering as he languidly strokes his own erection and turns it glossy with oil.

Madara licks his lips against the ridiculously lurid sight of that swollen cockhead disappearing and thrusting back up through the ring of Tobirama’s fingers.

“Get in me. Now.”

And it would seem that his soul-mate is perfectly willing to follow orders when it suits. One second there’s an aching emptiness and the next Madara finds himself being pressed back down into the futon and kissed within an inch of his life. He can’t see what’s happening, but he can feel Tobirama take himself in hand and blindly search for where he’s loose and wanting. That slick cockhead slides along skin until it catches, pushing into him slow and easy. The overwhelming drag inside of him is simultaneously too much and not enough.

They groan, clinging to each other and shuddering through the overwhelming sensation of being too full and clenched too tight respectively.

“Relax,” Tobirama pants. “Breathe.”

From the way his hips are trembling and how his unguarded face is contorting in bliss, Madara’s not entirely sure which of them he’s trying to talk down. Still, it’s good advice. Sweat flows as freely as their breathy little gasps. Being so open and honest would be too great a misstep for a shinobi in any other circumstance, but Madara can’t possibly see this love as a weakness.

If anything, it’s what saved them.

As soon as his nerves quit singing quite so loudly, he drags his nails along Tobirama’s back and cants his hips to take him all the way. Tobirama’s thighs clench against his buttocks, powerful, like a restrained lightning bolt.

“I’m relaxed and I’m breathing,” Madara murmurs into his soul-mate’s neck, dusting his lips over where his pulse is strongest. “Now can you move?”

Immediately, the tension snaps and Tobirama shifts a little higher onto his knees, effortlessly scooping Madara’s legs beneath his forearms and folding forward once more. This time the pleasure is sharper, a visceral ache with the promise of better things to come.

The first withdraw is torture, though Tobirama tosses his head and makes sure that the absence doesn’t last long. A particularly deep thrust seats him fully and tears a sharp bark from Madara. Another handful of repetitions and the discomfort is entirely subsumed by want.

“Faster, koibito. Take me faster,” Madara insists, watching the ceiling rock with glossy eyes.

All of that vaunted self-control succumbs to the pull of heat and passion coiling in their loins as Tobirama pistons, slow at first, then gaining in both speed and power as Madara unfurls beneath him. He’s such an intriguingly complex man, but in this, his ends are obvious—Madara’s complete and utter devastation.

Well, maybe not. Tobirama’s breath blows fast and desperate against his shoulder, every bit as affected.

Another smooth, slick slide and Madara instinctively thrashes, bites the sheets to bury his noises. With as wicked as Tobirama’s body is, he’s not sure whether they’re fucking or fighting, but thinks that either is good right now.

Powerful hands hold his hips steady as Tobirama rocks into him, slamming in all the way to the hilt and driving hard to chase every last taste of Madara’s capitulation. Glossy-eyed and slack-jawed, he echoes each grunt, gasp, and groan. 

They ride the wave of the motion together. One by skill, one by instinct, and both inseparable. Time and context aren’t paid any mind in their desperation to fall together. The wet slapping of thighs on buttocks fills the space, a lurid thing. Grunts of effort are buried in skin. Madara’s cock spills precome between them.

Finally, they share sharp, desperate gasps between them, trading air for the hot press of lips when the mounting pleasure proves to be too much. Overwhelmed, Tobirama collapses onto his elbows and plants graceless, other-mouthed kisses along every patch of skin he can reach. Neck, jaw, cheek.

Madara is burning from the inside out and Tobirama’s deliverance is only hastening that destruction. The fire in his veins devours. Something in him shifts, slots into place, and as Tobirama mercilessly slams into a bright spot that has him choking on a silent scream, the soul-bond flares like a spear through the chest. Pain, pleasure, the first death throe—he can’t tell which it is because it’s all of them at once.

Either way, he’s defeated.

Utterly consumed, Madara is only distantly aware that there’s a palm wedging between their sweat-slick stomachs and engulfing his leaking cock, callus-rough, too tight, and perfect. When he spills, he thinks he hears his name—knows he screams Tobirama’s loud enough for the compound to hear.

None of that matters, though.

The mounting wave of orgasm crests strong and sure and, as one, they moan and shudder through the final culmination of their bond.

Snapping taut, the red string of fate binds them as inextricably as they hold each other.

He can’t remember a moment more joyous than this one.

At some point after Tobirama eases his softened cock free and flops to the side, Madara thinks he may have dozed. When he wakes up, it’s to gentle hands and the feel of chakra flowing across his skin. Amazing how useful suiton can be under the guidance of someone with inhuman chakra control, even in something so mundane as cleaning up after sex.

“Mmm, thanks,” Madara rasps, raising an eyebrow at the state of his voice, but not overly surprised by it. He feels slender fingers trace his jawline, then tilt his chin up. The kiss, when it comes, is soft and as sweet as the first thaw.

“Thank _you_ ,” Tobirama replies, a warm weight against his side. He traces the swell of Madara’s pecs, down to the divot just beneath, and curls back up to circle his heart. “For pursuing me when I had it in my mind that a soul-mate wasn’t a connection worth having. This bond is a troublesome thing. I’m quite taken with you now.”

Madara scoffs. As if he would ever allow either of them to live as half-people. The Senju are such a backwards clan, professing to value the ties of blood and clan over all, but denying the very foundation of family in the same breath. Fortunately this particular Senju bastard was able to discover the truth Uchiha know from birth.

Madara supposes he can afford to be a little gracious in his victory. But only a little.

“I’ll be more than happy to beat some sense into you whenever you need it,” he offers.

With a knowing smile, Tobirama shifts up the futon and cards his fingers through Madara’s hair, careful to tease out the tangles. “Good to know,” he hums dismissively. “I, of course, would be willing to provide the same service. Though, you’ll likely be needing it more than I will.”

It takes a second for the implication to sink in through the lingering haze. When it does, Madara squeezes Tobirama’s waist and joins him in a easy, contented laugh. “Asshole,” he murmurs fondly.

They lie in the afterglow long enough for the lamps to die down naturally. The plain walls of the guest room reflect the low flickers only enough to illuminate a lavish writing desk, otherwise leaving the tatami mats and the vestibule beyond in gloom. It’s amiable and comforting knowing that they can have this now. No more nights spent in armor, waiting for the portentous gong to sound. No more pointless bloodshed. Their clans are bound by law to coexist peaceably now, and, as mercenaries, both the Senju and Uchiha honor contracts above nearly all else.

Past the shadow, a light blooms on the other side of the guest quarters, illuminating two figures behind the shoji screen. Their silhouettes are frighteningly familiar. 

“Tobriama,” Madara says slowly, “whose room are we in?”

With how quickly things progressed between them, Madara hadn’t thought to ask. Except now if they are where he suspects, this tender haven they’ve created is about to be shattered.

“The guest accommodations the Shimura provided for my brother and I. I was unsure of where you placed your gunbai and my only other Hiraishin marker is in my pack. Why?” Tobirama replies, brow furrowed.

Madara smacks himself in the face and drags his hand down, bemoaning everything in his life. Here he is, bare and tangled together with his soul-mate, freshly fucked and with Tobirama’s come still marinating within him. All he wants is to stay that way and enjoy the post-coital bliss, maybe have another round and learn how to suck cock.

Nowhere in this little imagining did he plan for the shit storm that’s about to happen.

There’s a burst of merriment from the corridor as wine-drunk hands fumble with the doorframe. He knows that devilish laugh and nothing good has ever come of it.

“Because Izuna and I agreed that if we were having sex tonight, I would take you to our room,” Madara states flatly.

There’s a loud crash, then an entirely too enthusiastic “Oh, hey, Otouto! Madara! Why are you two naked?” 

## If you enjoyed the fic and wouldn't mind giving feedback as to what worked and what didn't for this CYOA event, please click below for the survey! 

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***** Or remain subscribed to this fic and I'll post the announcement here as well.** Thank you for joining the adventure. lol <3

(Comment responses below:)

lol, you need to get me dinner before you ask how i like my sex ;) **Aw, babe. But we’ve made such an amazing emotional connection over these past 2-3 weeks! I’ve tried my best to show you that I’m a good listener and always willing to go above and beyond to give you what you ask for. Our love transcends overcooked chicken with lemon garlic cream sauce and soggy asparagus. This burgeoning romance of ours is pure and kind and everything good. So, with that being said, what do you think of sounding?**

Welp. It's been a ride hasn't it? It's now officially soulmate couple time. I just wished for a good ending for two boys who got ROBBED in canon. Show me what you've got! **Oh, I’LL SHOW YOU! And they really did get robbed. T_T**

I love your portrayal of Izuna, btw :D I mean I usually do but he’s so vicious here, I love it! Little Beast indeed. Also, Madara and Izuna being siblings is fun! Madara and Tobirama 100% deserve each other :D **Listen…Izuna is my fucking JAM. He’s the character I enjoy writing above all others, particularly when it’s an AU where his complexity gets to shine through (obviously not this one lol). I’m glad you like him. <3**

1 and I didn't answer the rest. After all that 'vibrating', I think Madara is done with any sort of waiting. As for the rest... author's choice. (can't go wrong with that!) **lmao Never, _never_ let me choose.** **That’s how eldritch horror fic happens.**

Yes make it hot dirty and outside! All there other tryst have been outside rolling around in the woods or the river, keep the pace with madara taking and giving all the desperate sex hes been craving for the last few months. There is time for tenderness later for now it's time to get it ON! **Alas, they wound up having vanilla sex on a bed with feels and virginal fumbling. Don’t @ me. XDDDDDD**

Soft and sweet! Madara is so antsy but slowing down would make more of an impact on Tobi I think. And what's to say Madara can't have the other kiss another time, like after that spar he was thinking about? And you gave us so many choices this time! **Soft and sweet it is! As for the number of choices, I figured it would be nice for you guys to tailor the ending to be exactly what you wanted. ^_^**

I’m totally down with our boys being DTF, and don’t even mind it in the garden!, but if they do go all the way to penetration I’d prefer they move it back to the guest room, if only so they have some lube at the ready (never mind the potential for getting caught by their brothers with their pants literally down)! So really I’m voting for you choose where and what because it’s all okay by me as long as these semi-star crossed lovers get to actually go through with it! And, on that note, I’m voting for 2 because it starts them off slower so they can move to the bedroom and also on more immediately equal ground which is pretty important for a first time/any time early on in a relationship. (They can get rough, and even kinky, if they want after they have a chance to make sure they’re both on the same page!) **Well, you got 50% of your wishes. Yes lube, nope, HashiIzu are still getting an eyeful. I’m a capricious god. You’re _welcome_. lol**

Consent is sexy lol **It is. <3**

okay but since you took the time to mention izuna making his waist look even smaller please say that you will at least consider sharing hashirama's reaction to it. sly izuna knowing just how to get exactly what he wants from that beautiful dumb tree man. **Dude, I sincerely wish I could have. T_T Please don’t kill me anyone reading this, but if I were left to my own devices, I would have rather written the HashiIzu sex scene. Lmao They’re just so fun!**

Now that we've had our tease, I feel that Madara has vibrated enough you tricksy rabbit, so GET ON WITH THE SMUT (via the "kiss attack" option) Just as long as it's very, very mutual smut. :) And yes, I'm the vote for "EVERYWHERE" and "IN THE EMOTIONS" if this site doesn't show you that. **Lololol Google shows me all and your response cracked me up. :DDDD**

okay wait but actually please let them go inside, those gardens are probably so full of mosquitoes it would be miserable. like, even if they didn't notice in the middle of getting it on they're gonna wake up the next morning w/bug bites in places where the sun doesn't shine. **Mosquito bites are a problem for tomorrow’s Madatobi. lol**

Gah, 2 2 2, absolutely 2. I am such a sucker for laughing while kissing. *melts* Seriously tho, sex is ridiculous and people take it too seriously when they write it all too often. The best kind of sex scenes are giggly and joyful imho. RETURN TO GUESTROOMS PLS. As funny as telling grass stains would be, I'm sure Tobirama stashed a hiraishin marker in his rooms for just such an occasion. And privacy is king when you both come from clans full of gossips. And they've both been shinobi their entire lives at this point so comfort is also to be savored I'll bet. I'm going to leave the 'and how' up to you since I actually don't really care? Ace af, me ;D. And while i don't mind reading well written sex scenes, I'm more about the emotional components thereof so the mechanics are very whatever to my mind! **Laughing, virgin fumbling, feels cropping up? You got it!**

I'm going for #1 simply because (to quote a certain author regarding Madara) "In love, in war, he's nothing if not direct." And also because that gets us to the good stuff faster. **;D Number two only put off the good stuff like an extra 1-2k. lol**

Definitely 2. I know you’re impatient Mads but consent is important. **< 3**

@izuna i love you keep going sweetie ur doing great @mads for a world-class shinobi you really need to work on threats maybe just stand behind tobirama and toss your hair dramatically. no work needed on the compliments tho like goddamn i'm blushing and hiding my face at some of these lines i can't believe tobirama isn't impressed madara is saying those with a straight face and like,, sincerely also oh my god. i'm trying to vote based on what will cause madara the most flailing but the sudden realization i just had that it's actually smut time we, the readers, have finally actually voted the way to get smut time! took us long enough as a collective thank you so much for your patience // and also thank you for writing and sharing and interacting and being great!! thank you! **XDDDDDDDDDDDDD There was no pressure or time frame for the voting! You guys crafted the fic that you wanted to see written and I had a blast playing within those boundaries. It was super fun! Also, Izuna is perfect and has never done anything wrong in his life ever. Lol**

*cheering in a megaphone: Second! Second!* Tender lovemaking is much more up my alley. Although I'm sure it will be wonderful no matter what. Also I had to google what "intercrural" is (bc for some reason no one ever used this word around me? I know I've seen it in fics before!) and it sounds like something I would like to see :) **Tender(ish) lovemaking with virgin antics is a go. ;D Intercrural sex is fun to write because there’s always a heightened sense of anticipation. I’m glad to have broadened your sex vocabulary. lol**

I appreciate how fucking thirsty option one makes Madara out to be but boy, you're gonna be clacking teeth with Tobirama. You ain't got the EXPERIENCE to back that thirst up. Also your romantic ass KNOWS you want your First Time with your soulmate to be tender and intimate. **Madara is a disaster. Clacking teeth, knocking his soul-mate tf out…all passion, no finesse makes for lackluster sex. Lol Tobirama would hve had his hands full. XD**

This is gonna get wild ;) **Ish. XD I suppose vanilla sex is pretty wild by shinobi standards. lol**

Pff Madara is so frustrated that the obvious answer is the first one. And, I think, Tobirama would find it hilarious that Madara needed to have him on his knees in order to kiss him properly, and then they would be so horny that they would end up cofffornicatingcoff right there, in the middle of the gardens. Extra points if, for some reason, Hashirama has the idea of also going to the gardens to "walk" with Izuna and end up traumatized, for obvious reasons, or Hashi is so drunk that he has the idea of joining the party (and live the Spring Time of Youth!!! :'D). And everyone ends up traumatized... **Our sweet little volcano is so ready to blow in option one. XD And omfg, I am 100% on board with a polyamorous pile in the gardens, but alas, I write what’s voted on. T_T**

bububububububu **Who hurt you?**

I feel like they won’t go all the way in another Shinobi’s estate. Even though there is peace now, that doesn’t mean there are those that oppose it, and won’t take the opportunity when everyone’s guard is down to attack. ***pulls you close and pats your cheeks gently* Fortunately, this is a whimsical fic that operates on ‘war-lite’ dynamics as opposed to ‘shitting yourself in the trenches and slowly degrading due to malnutrition and sepsis.’ This fic is so far outside of the scope of reality, the safety of where they’re playing ‘hide the kunai’ doesn’t even register. Let *clap* shinobi *clap* fuck. ;D But yeah, if I were writing seriously, you’re totally right.**

*whispers* Madara’s a bottom he just doesn’t know it yet **YUP!**

While number one seems more like a Madara move, number two shows a more caring and respectful side of him that I am sure Tobirama would appreciate. Both options look soooo good! **Ngl, both would have been fun!**


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